#meanwhile i heard no communication from her since i called off the rest of the week all the way back on wednesday

[i-like-gay-books]

my boss just made me feel like shit for isolating while waiting for my pcr test because fridays are busy or whatever and what the hell??

[bbangsoonie]

teach me about love

member: kevin genre: fluff (preschool teacher!kevin au) word count: 2,120 synopsis: when your brother asks you to pick up your nieces from school, you find a teacher that you find to be cuter than the toddlers there.

a/n: happy birthday to our moonlight boy, kevin 🌙

You didn’t really like kids. They were adorable, of course, but they were snotty walking embodiments of germs and you had no idea how to entertain them. They were absolutely precious when sleeping but their tantrums terrified you.

Whenever they came up to you with those bright expectant eyes, you didn’t know what to do except pet their head. Everyone around you would scold you saying that they were children, not dogs. But in your defense, they didn’t seem to mind.

To be honest, you preferred dogs over kids. They were cute all the time.

Nonetheless, you still adored your nieces. The older one, Ahyoung, reminded you of your own past self. She was shy and reserved but sought out love and attention. She constantly needed assurance to fight early signs of anxiety. The younger one, Soyoung, was the complete opposite; she was loud and outgoing. She easily made friends with everyone and adjusted well to new environments.

So when your brother asked you for a last minute favor, you were more than happy to pick them up at their preschool. Unfortunately, however, you were terrible with directions and ended up 20 minutes late.

Apologizing profusely to the staff and teachers, you made your way throughout the building to find their classroom. That was another struggle of its own.

“Auntie Y/n!” you heard two familiar voices screech. You laughed as they ran up to you and hugged your legs.

“Sorry I’m late girls,” you pouted as you squished their cheeks.

“It’s okay, Auntie! Teacher Kevin was playing house with us,” Ahyoung beamed.

“Teacher Kevin was our dog!” Soyoung giggled.

You looked up to see a male teacher sheepishly escape from the tiny playhouse. You held back a laugh, pitying him for what the girls put him through.

“I’m sorry about that,” you chuckled.

“No worries,” he smiled. “It’s my job and I love kids. I had fun playing with them too.”

“I’m Y/n,” you introduced as you held out a hand. “I’m Ahyoung and Soyoung’s aunt. I came to pick them up since my brother got caught up in a work emergency.”

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Kevin,” he said as he shook your hand. You knew it was unprofessional to think this but he was cute. Like, really cute.

Trying to leave before your smiling cheeks could reveal your thoughts, you quickly collected the girls’ bags and helped them put their jackets on. You bid their cute teacher goodbye and happily suggested an aunt-niece ice cream date. They cheered at the idea of sweets and raced to your car.

The next week, your brother asked if you could pick the girls up from school again. Apparently they had been bugging him to have their favorite aunt come every day.

You weren’t sure if it was his flattery or if it was their sneaky plan for ice cream but you didn’t mind. As a freelancer, you had a flexible schedule. You were glad to spend time with your nieces and catch another glimpse of their teacher.

This time, you made sure to leave your house early. You ended up arriving before dismissal and watched as the kids ran around in the playground. Something about seeing Kevin’s eyes sparkle in front of them made you soft. He seemed so genuinely happy and looked at each student with honey dripping from his eyes.

Soyoung squealed as she chased after a boy who tapped her free in a game of freeze tag. She was a little confused about the rules but the effort was there.

While still keeping an eye on the children, Kevin approached you and asked if you wanted a juice box. You kindly declined, thanking him for the offer.

“You’re really good with the little ones,” you complimented.

“Ah, no, they’re the ones who are good with me,” he shyly shook his head. “I’m thankful that they see me as a fun and respectable teacher.”

“I find young kids to be difficult,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to match their level.”

“I get you. It’s definitely not easy to figure out what they want and try to communicate with them with their still-developing language skills. I’m still not great at it. I just try to improve a little more every day,” he said humbly.

He was a lot better than you who was quick to give up and run away. His words made you reflect and feel slightly guilty.

The bell chimed, making the students rush to line up in front of the door. Kevin left your side to gather everyone together and take them back inside to gather their belongings.

By now, a handful of parents had arrived and were waiting for their children. One by one, the students walked out with their matching yellow chick backpacks, excitedly running up to their guardian.

Your nieces greeted you in that high pitched shriek you loved, body slamming into your open arms. With them in your embrace, you gave them a tight squeeze before getting up and holding their hands to take them to the car.

“Wait!” you heard Kevin call out. Turning around, you were surprised to see him running towards you. When he caught up to you, he held out a book. Taking it, you read the title.

“The Body Language of Toddlers”

“I thought you might find this book useful,” his hands fumbled awkwardly, not knowing where to go. His gesture brought you a warm feeling.

“Thank you, Kevin. I’ll be sure to give it a read,” you smiled.

“Ooooh,” Ahyoung wiggled her eyebrows, making both you and Kevin blush. You ruffled her hair and ushered her towards your vehicle.

Picking the girls up from school became a biweekly thing for you. Every Monday and Friday, you would arrive ten minutes early to chat with Kevin as he told you funny stories that happened throughout the day. And when you worked with a bunch of preschoolers, there were a lot of those types of stories.

You listened as he went on about how a little boy woke up from a nap thinking he had an argument with his friend because of a nightmare he had. Kevin had to convince him that it was all a dream and that his friend did not actually steal his gummy worms and lie about it.

The way he spoke about his students was endearing. He made them sound like lovely angels even when they were cranky and misbehaving.

“We’re looking for chaperones for the upcoming field trip if you’re interested,” he cautiously brought up. “We only had a few parents sign up so we’d really appreciate any extra helping hands.”

Panicking, you stuttered about how you didn’t have the confidence to keep rowdy kids in check at a public space. He assured you that your only responsibility would be to make sure no one ran off and to accompany kids to the bathroom if they had to separate from the group.

He was a smooth talker. He somehow persuaded you into agreeing and you couldn’t believe you left the school that day after signing the form.

“Auntie, do you like Teacher Kevin?” Ahyoung asked you in the car ride back home.

“Sure, Teacher Kevin is nice,” you hummed.

“No, she means do you like like him?” Soyoung pressed.

You feigned innocence and pretended not to understand what they were talking about. They grilled you about how often you talked with him and even pointed out that he didn’t talk to other parents like that. They sure were smart-witted for their age.

On the day of the field trip, you spent a long time deciding on what to wear. You had no idea how casual you were supposed to dress as a chaperone.

You ended up choosing a simple outfit and rushed out the door to avoid being late. You had to say you were excited. It had been ages since you last visited an aquarium. And maybe the extra butterflies in your stomach were because of a certain someone you were looking forward to seeing.

Meeting Kevin outside of the school felt different. He stood out in the crowd of tiny humans. Even more so once you entered the place and you noticed that most of the visitors were families, students, or couples.

You softly smiled as you watched the kids fawn over colorful fish and gawk at sharks. It felt like you were returning to your own childhood innocence. You followed Ahyoung, who was pulling at your sleeve, to the jellyfish section where she asked you to take a picture of her with the transparent creature.

The photos came out so incredibly that you had to immediately send them to your brother. He texted back almost instantly and you scoffed when you read his message.

“Heck yeah I made that. Those are my genes right there.”

Rolling your eyes, the corners of your lips twitched up as you put the device away. You guided Ahyoung back to the rest of the group and ran into Kevin who was coming back from the bathroom with another student.

“How are you enjoying the trip so far?” he asked.

“It’s nice. Honestly not as chaotic as I thought it’d be,” you admitted.

“Oh don’t jinx it. Lunch time will be hectic,” he warned.

He was right. Between picky kids and the kimbap packed by their parents, the unwanted vegetables were flown around the picnic table. You barely managed to avoid the carrot that was flung in your direction. Unluckily, you were unable to dodge the spinach that was now tangled in your hair.

Kevin laughed as he tried to help you take it out, cracking a joke about it looking like seaweed and you looking like a mermaid dragged out of the ocean.

“He means you’re pretty, Auntie!!” Soyoung eagerly translated on his behalf. “Mermaids are super super pretty. Like Ariel, the princess!”

This raised a teasing crowd of “ooh”s from the group of preschoolers.

“Teacher Kevin and Auntie Y/n sitting in a tree,” a boy began chanting, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

His friend made a face and screamed “ew,” making him laugh uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Kevin was trying his best to cover his burning ears. He pulled the beanie over his ears, not wanting to expose his embarrassment.

“My daddy said no boy is good enough for Auntie but I’ll tell him nice things about you, Teacher Kevin. Just specially for you,” Ahyoung proudly announced.

Awkwardly coughing, you stuffed her cheeks with another roll of kimbap. Her muffled cries of resistance were appeased with a juice box shoved into her mouth. The sweet drink diverted her attention away from you and back to her lunch.

You two were now officially shipped by all of Kevin’s students. Even the other teachers giggled as they passed by you.

By the end of the field trip, you were one of the last ones to leave. After all the other students and teachers departed from the aquarium, Kevin escorted you to the car with a sleeping Ahyoung in his arms and a sleeping Soyoung in yours.

You both carefully placed them in their car seats and closed the door after buckling their seat belts. Now that you were alone with him, you didn’t know what to say. Despite the silence, it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable.

“So have you warmed up to the idea of kids yet?” he finally asked after clearing his throat.

“The book you gave me definitely taught me a lot of things,” you nodded. “Now I’m not completely terrified of them. And seeing you handle kids comforts me.”

“Really? How so?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… you so effortlessly take care of them and I can see how much you cherish each and every one of your students. I envy that.”

“Trust me, it’s not as easy as you think it is,” he chuckled.

Silence fell between you again but you simply enjoyed his presence. You turned your head to see him already staring at you. With your eyes, you wordlessly asked if there was something he wanted to say.

“So uh tomorrow’s Saturday,” he suddenly mentioned. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater and hesitated to speak up again.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” he blurted. You couldn’t stop the smile that crept up on your face.

“Nope.”

“Would you like to um grab dinner with me tomorrow then?”

He anxiously held his breath as he waited for your response. Biting his lips, he wondered if he had ruined things by going too fast.

“Sure. How’s 6?” you finally answered.

“6 is great. 6 is lovely. Wonderful. Perfect,” he replied with a huge grin.

a/n: calling all kevin enthusiasts aka @reverienostalgia

i also may or may not have kinda wrote my little cousins into this fic.. 👉🏻👈🏻

[letarasstuff]

Breaking Protocol

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing for JJ for the first time :)

Summary: What will happen, if JJ isn't technically allowed to tell her family about the Anthrax Attack, but tries to do it anyways?

Warnings: Mentions of a sick child, Spencer eats Jell-O, so food

Wordcount: 1.8k

✨Masterlist✨ __________________________________

JJ always says that even though she is a communication liaison for the FBI, she is a mother first. This is something she promised her daughter when she first began to work there. And she is set on keeping that promise.

But today it turns out to be more difficult than ever. Hotch’s strict instruction to keep the information about the Anthrax Attack in the circle of the BAU and the military forbids the mother to say anything to her family. Still, her family is constantly on her mind.

If she is right, Will planned a trip with one year old Henry and 14 years old (Y/N) to the park. JJ can’t think about anything but her most important people in the world laying in the ER, coughing their lungs out and spluttering blood, while she is stuck at the office with the power to warn them.

Spencer comes into her office, asking for a certain file. “Spence, what would you do if your family is in potential danger?” He stops for a second to think about it: “Given the fact that my mother is in a sanctorium with guards and medical staff, I consider her pretty low risk and can’t put myself in a situation where she is in real danger. So I take all of you and since I see you as my family and the people that keep me going I think I would do anything to keep you safe.”

She looks up at him with her blue eyes. “Even if it means to break protocol?” “Especially if it means to break protocol”, he answers her firmly, exactly knowing what she means. Spencer knows that her little family means the world and more to her. If anything happens to them she would never be the same.

Meanwhile JJ sits there contemplating putting her job on the line for an eventually that maybe isn’t even true, Will runs around the house frantically.

“Maybe I can go and get some? I’m sure we can’t disturb mom at work”, (Y/N) suggests as she tries to console the crying Henry in her arms. Her stepdad considers the offer. They originally wanted to go to the park to have a small picnic and maybe even invite JJ to meet them there on her lunch break. But Henry caught something overnight and the only thing he does is crying and puking.

Will is looking for any kind of medicine, but he can’t find anything appropriate for children. “I guess you are right. Do you know which one we need? I’ll try to get him to sleep or calm down at least. Thank you so much, (Y/N), you are a lifesaver.”

“Of course, I do anything. When I get lost or something at the pharmacy I can still call you, right?” He nods while taking his son out of her arms in order for her to be able to put on her shoes. “Good, then see you soon. I’ll hurry up.”

(Y/N) takes her bike and decides to use the shortcut through the park. It’s a nice sunny day with a warm soft breeze going through the bushes. In moments like these the teenager knows that the world is alright. That somehow everything will be good. Always.

Buying the needed medicine for her baby brother takes place without any complications and soon she is back on track with her bike. Shortly before reaching her house, the teenager’s phone is ringing.

In case that Will needs something else (Y/N) has turned her ringtone on. Surprisingly it’s her mother, she sees after descending her bike and looks at the caller ID.

“Hey Mom, is everything ok? Did something happen?” As sad as this may sound, but in 90% it’s the case that she was hurt on her job or anybody else when she calls (Y/N) during her workday.

But JJ is relieved to hear her daughter safe and sound. “(Y/N), honey. Everything is fine. Did you go to the park with Henry and Will?” Slowly the girl continues her way back, pushing her bike. “No, we didn’t. Henry got sick overnight, so there is no way we could have taken him. I think it’s just a stomach bug. Will and I couldn’t find any medicine for him, so I did a quick run to the pharmacy. I’m actually on my way back right now. Why are you calling?”

Once again the mother tries to not answer her question. “Aw, poor Henry. Can you tell him that Mommy will be home soo- Wait, to which pharmacy did you go?”

Puzzled by her mother’s sudden harsh tone (Y/N) stops in her tracks. “Mom, what’s the problem? You never call me during work except when something happens. Is anybody in the hospital? Did you get kidnapped? Is this your last call to a loved one? Mom, answer me!” Panic sets in as the silence grows from JJ’s side.

“Honey, please tell me you didn’t go to the one on West Street. Please.” Her begging tone alarms the teenager further. Is this a clue?

“I did, Mom. I took my bike, went through the park to West Street. It’s the closest one and Henry really doesn’t feel good, so I had to hurry up. Can you please tell me what’s going on?!” But her mother stays quiet for several moments, as if she is calculating something.

Being finally fed up with her, (Y/N) speaks again: “If you don’t want to tell me anything, don’t bother call-” She is suddenly cut off by a huge coughing fit.

“(Y/N)? Honey, are you ok?” The agent’s mind goes into momma bear mode, completely ignoring any protocol in the world. But her daughter isn’t able to answer. Too stunned is she by the fact that she just coughed up blood. How is that poss-

“(Y/N), please answer me”, she begs again. “M-mom, I just c-coughed blood.” JJ feels like her heart stops. This can’t be happening.

“Stay calm, (Y/N). I- There- I’ll send people to you. They will come and get you. They will explain to you what this is, they know more about it than I do. I’ll call Will and tell him that you are not coming home. Penelope will ping your phone, just don’t move.”

After a few more reassuring words JJ hangs up and bolts into Hotch’s office. “Hotch, (Y/N) got infected, she rode her bike through the park and back to get medicine for Henry and I told her to stay where she is. That somebody is going to get he-”

Aaron stops her rambling by putting both hands on her shoulder. “I’ll let Doctor Kimura know. Meet them at the hospital.” “Bu-” Again he cuts the blonde off. “No buts. You always say that you are a mother first. Your family, especially your daughter, needs you now more than ever. Go and be a mother.”

Encouraged by her boss’ words she makes her way to her car, simultaneously calling Will to let him know what’s happening.

Shortly after this the small family sits in a hospital room. (Y/N) lays passed out on the bed, paler than anybody has her ever seen. JJ grasps her hand, mentally kicking herself for not calling sooner. For letting regulations destroy her family. Will holds Henry, who finally is asleep, in his arms and tries to console his girlfriend.

“You weren’t allowed to say anything. Also, I wanted to go to another park if Henry wasn’t sick. There was absolutely nothing you could have done differently.” His accent is thicker than ever.

Before she is able to respond, a nurse enters the room with an inhaler in hand. “What is this?” Ever since (Y/N) was admitted to the hospital, the mother is careful to know what they give her and what not.

“This is a cure for this strand, Doktor Reid found it in Nichol’s office. We already tested it and it’s 100% effective.” More or less convinced JJ let’s the nurse do her job, watching her every move like a hawk.

And then they wait again. And wait. And wait for the cure to kick in. For (Y/N) to open her eyes. To be able to form a sentence. A coherent sentence without being interrupted by a coughing fit.

Once JJ leaves her bed reluctantly, Will forces her to take a walk and get a coffee from the cafeteria. On her way back she visits Spencer’s room, who is already awake.

“Hey Spence”, she smiles softly at him. He stops shoving a cup of Jell-O into his mouth to smile back. “Hi. How is (Y/N) doing?” A frown quickly spreads onto her face. “Still not awake. But the doctors say she will be fine. I wanted to thank you. If you wouldn’t have put your life on the line, none of the others would be alive. Thank you, for saving my daughter”, at the end the blonde’s voice breaks. She can’t imagine a life without her oldest child. Without anyone of her family.

“Hey, it’s alright. (Y/N) is fine. I’m fine. Everybody got their own happy end. Now go back to her, I’m sure she’ll wake up in no time.” She nods and gives him a hug before going back to (Y/N)’s room. There she sits back in her seat, handing her boyfriend his own cup of coffee.

A few minutes later a small groan is heard. “Can anybody turn off the sun? It’s unbelievably bright today.” Not registering what’s really happening, the teenager finds herself in a big family hug with Henry on her chest. “Woah, did I fall asleep during our picnic or something?”

JJ smiles through her tears of relief, seeing her daughter being her confused self again. “No, I’ll explain it to you later. Get some more rest, we’ll stay with you.” “Rest, this sounds nice.” Just a few minutes later (Y/N) is asleep again.

Luckily both she and Spencer make a quick recovery and even get a “Welcome Back to the Living” Party (organized by the one and only Penelope Garcia). From this moment on JJ makes sure to warn her family one way or another. Hotch generously lets it slip, acting like he doesn’t know about it after this close of a call.

In the end the only thing that matters is that they all are back to being healthy and make up for the missed picnic.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing 

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true. 

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid. 

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’ 

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

 Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again. 

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist. 

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success. 

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch. 

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered. 

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business. 

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’ 

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened. 

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently. 

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate. 

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his. 

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

--

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself. 

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other. 

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second. 

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers. 

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted. 

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket. 

‘Hey, baby?’ 

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap. 

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase. 

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy. 

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time. 

‘Move in with me?’ 

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. 

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled. 

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad. 

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

--

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came. 

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out. 

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned. 

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s. 

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. 

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled. 

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening. 

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost

[blxetsi]

armin arlert, mikasa ackerman, and eren jaeger polyamorous headcanons (modern au)

armin arlert x gn!reader, mikasa ackerman x gn!reader, eren jaeger x gn!reader, mikasa x armin x eren x gn!reader

warnings: uhh fluff, this is very long, reader has a gf b4 getting w ema,

this is like my first post since feb that isnt a request 😍😍😍 how did i pull this out of my ass

- obv eren, mikasa, and armin have been besties since childhood so its no wonder they all got together first 🤩🙏

- and theyre all hot so why wouldnt they wanna date each other

- i think armin and eren wouldve gotten together first, and then invited mikasa into their relationship

- the three of them have been officially going steady for like over a year now, and its going really well

- they didnt really expect you to drop into their lives tho

- youre an old friend of historia's and you two reconnected after you moved to the city, securing yourself a decent paying job working as a writer for the city paper

- you usually get the boring stuff, never able to get a good story to write about, focusing your time on heartwarming stories in the community or the sports column

- its boring but it pays the bills

- you were thankful when historia called you during your lunch and asked if you wanted to get drinks at a bar with her and a couple of other friends

- of course you said yes

- so historia and her girlfriend ymir picked you up after work, having dinner with them after a long week was the best, but you were a bit nervous to meet all of their friends

- thats how you met eren, mikasa and armin

- at first you were sure that mikasa and eren were dating, seeing as mikasa had her head on the taller man's shoulder, while his arm was wrapped around her

- but when armin leaned down to give mikasa a kiss before heading off to the bar you werent so sure

- ymir pulled you away to get more drinks and explained to you what the situation was, while commenting on the way you gawked at the three of them before

- you were embarassed to say the least but they didnt bring it up that night so you hoped the throuple didnt notice (they did)

- you really hit it off with all of them though, especially sasha and jean, and were constantly talked about among the friend group

- because of your demanding job dealing with writers block and deadlines you couldnt really meet up with all of them often, usually just having sleepovers at ymir and historia's apartment, the three of you drinking while you wrote on your laptop

- after a couple months of casual hangouts with historia and ymir and their friends, you kinda became one of them too which was nice

- you were added to the groupchat, you all followed each other on social media, and a certain brunet had taken a liking to you

- eren didnt know why exactly he was so attracted to you but he was, maybe it was your hair, or how pretty your skin looked even when oily or with breakouts, maybe it was your smile or your body or your sense of humor or you kindness or maybe it was all of it

- eren jaeger would always stay faithful to his boyfriend and girlfriend, but maybe they could add another person into the mix, more to love right ?

- he had only known you for a couple of months though, he didnt want to jump the gun and bring this up with his partners so soon, especially if they didnt feel the same way he did

- and it would be a bummer if you turned out to be a bad person or smth

- so summer rolls around with lots of memories being made with your new friends, as well as friends from work, and you get a girlfriend ??

- shes not really your girlfriend you two have only been out on a couple of dates and she kisses you a lot but, you havent talked about labels

- one night you, along with your friends are back at the same bar where you first met them

"so, tell us about the girl youre seeing." ymir says, smirking over her beer.

eren's ears perked up at the mention of you seeing someone. "girl ?"

historia nodded. "mhm ! y/n's been talking to someone recently, they've gone on dates and kissed and stuff."

"and stuff, jesus tori you make it sound like we've had sex." you sighed.

the blonde just laughed, leaning her body onto her freckled companion.

"well ? what about her ?" eren asks. armin slapped him on the arm, already having suspicions about eren's interest in you.

your shoulders sagged. "well, she's great and everything, truly..."

"but ? is there a but in this ?" connie asked. sasha started laughing at connie's use of the word but, while jean slapped the girl on the arm because of her reaction.

you shrugged, swirling what was left of your fruity cocktail in your glass. "well, i'm not sure. she's very lively, and sweet. but i don't know, i just don't see myself being able to be in a steady relationship with her."

"so you're gonna end it ?" eren asked. you thought he seemed a bit too eager about your failure in the love department.

"why do you care so much ? you like the thought of me being lonely ?" you shot back, before downing the rest of your drink.

"no i just-"

"i think what eren means is," mikasa intervened, her smooth voice calming you as she looked at you with a smile on her face. "is that there's no point in staying with her if you can't see yourself with her. don't lead her on."

you nodded. "you're exactly right my friend. which is the plan for tonight because i," you quickly checked the time on your phone. 8:17. "have a date with miss molly at nine, so i will be taking my leave."

the group engaged in a chorus of boos for leaving so early, while you chuckled and took the lighthearted insults thrown at you by sasha and connie with ease. grabbing all of your things you put down two twenties onto the table. "i'll see you guys later, have a goodnight." as you walked off you heard jean yell "have a good time you heartbreaker !" making you shake your head

- the date with molly went less then well. she yelled, and cried, and even tried hitting you at one point. your walk back from the park was spent blocking her on every form of social media you followed her on, and when you got back to your apartment you spent the night in a hot bath before retiring to bed

- meanwhile, armin and mikasa were trying to pry the truth out of eren, who was constantly denying his attraction to you

- finally mikasa took one for the team "eren, you aren't alone with the way you feel, i do too." this made eren more willing to open up to his partners

- armin doesnt say anything about you, only saying how youre kind. he doesnt feel the way that his girlfriend and boyfriend do, but he knows that may change

- soon enough, more time flies and christmas rolls around, with you all deciding to have a secret santa get together.

- historia invites everyone to her home on christmas eve, with ymir begrudgingly allowing it

- bertholdt and annie come too, reiner not being able to make it due to going home for christmas, while everyone else decided to stay in the city

- you picked out your secret santas at the beginning of november so you would all have enough time to find something for each other, you hoped whoever picked your name gave you something good

- after hours of games and karaoke and drinking you all decided it was time to open the presents

- ymir got socks from bertholdt, connie got an ugly beanie from ymir, historia got new pens from mikasa, mikasa got knitting needles from annie, annie got a dumbell from eren, jean got a not so appropriate t shirt from connie, jean gave sasha more comic books, armin gave new stationary paper to bertholdt, sasha gifted you that new biography you've been wanting to read and you gave armin your old copy of frankenstein by mary shelley

- he was surprised but very thankful, "how did you know i needed a new copy ?" "well i remember you said eren spilt water on your old one, and the pages just stuck together so i thought you might as well have mine"

- it warmed armin's heart that you remembered something so insignificant, and opened him up to the thought of being with you

- the rest of the night was spent with hugs and thankfulness, cheering when the clock struck 12 and it became christmas day

- after getting things cleaned up everyone decided it was time to leave, with armin, eren and mikasa offering to give you a ride home

- a ride where armin straight up kissed you in the backseat

- you stopped him of course, thinking that it was weird he would cheat on his partners right in front of them, while they were shocked all on their own for different reasons, armin who didnt have feelings for you KISSED you

- and surprisingly armin took the lead in explaining how he felt, why he kissed you, an apology for doing so, and an offer to start dating all three of them

- your heart was pounding in your ears and your entire face felt hot, it was probably the alcohol, or the way his lips felt so soft when they touched yours, so you said yes.

- its not smooth sailing from there

- youre kind of awkward

- this is your first relationship where you really feel like you could love these guys (you already do) but its also your first relationship with multiple people

- the trio start inviting you over more often, soon for sleepovers, and start inviting themselves over at your own place, mainly eren

- he just comes at random times, sometimes when youre not even there and waits for you, or stays and cleans up a bit before leaving

- armin and you share a deep love of literature, and you often find yourselves in hot debates about whatever youve read (mikasa and eren have to pry you two away before things get physical)

- mikasa likes to cook with you, she shares recipes that her mom taught her, and her and armin love to cook dinner together whereas eren is the breakfast maker of the household

- the first time you slept in the same bed as them you were so nervous your whole body thumped to the tune of your heartbeat, you were convinced armin could even hear it as he was laying beside you, but eren wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his large chest before whispering "youre as stiff as a board, relax honey"

- eren snores, mikasa drools, armin has those dreams where you fall and then violently wake up before you hit the ground

- slowly but surely you stop thinking about your relationship as the trio and you, but as all of you together, and that really helps you come out of your shell a bit

- you may still be in the honeymoon phase, and there may be bumps along the way, but you like being with armin, eren, and mikasa. they make you so happy, it feels like the happiest youve been in a long time

- you like watching eren and armin dance in the living room while you and mikasa cuddle on the couch, before the boys pull you two up as well

- you like when armin reads to you, his soft voice reciting the words of the great gatsby

- you like it when eren can just tell youve had a rough day, and pulls you into a hug like hes protecting you from all the bad things in the world

- you love being with them. you love them. and you think that theyre it for you

i rushed the ending bc im fucking tired but i kinda wanna do a poly!series with like sasha, connie and jean, or annie, bertholdt and reiner, or any other poly ships u guys may request !

so yeah pls give me feedback it rlly helps me figure out whether you want a polyamorous series (or just like what i write in general), and it would be my first series ever which would be super cool anyways

yeah requests open for poly!ships anyways

[wing-ed-thing]

Group Project (Shino x Reader x Kisame x Temari)

Request: 

Word Count: 2,282

Tags/Warnings: Language, Alcohol Mention, Gender Neutral Reader @brokennerdalert​ @narahanabi​

Notes: I have never written for Temari before. I think I got her spot on tho. This was actually too fun to write. Enjoy, y’all.

The only time that worked for everyone was 10 o’clock. Which, by the way, sucked ass. At least, that was what Kisame said in the groupchat just ten minutes before you dragged yourself out of your dorm and into the rain. You trudged through the puddles, holding your jacket closed over your body to protect your backpack-encased laptop. Shino had a night lab. The earlier he finished his work the earlier he could leave. Temari had been insistent about that. She had some sort of circle and you remembered Kisame asking her why she couldn’t just skip for the week only to be met with a passive aggressive response. And Kisame himself had hockey practice. Even the sports houses were off campus, only impeding your scheduling efforts.

When you got to the longue, Temari had already set up all of her belongings. She sat herself in a cluster of four shallow armchairs and spread out a flurry of papers on the long coffee table. With the packed schedule that she threw into the chat, you wondered how she got there so quickly. Temari looked up at you with one long, slender brow raised.

“Oh good, at least you’re here.” Unsure, really, of what to make of her backhanded compliment, you sat down in the chair across from her and wordlessly unpacked your laptop.

You never liked general classes. At the end of the day, you worked on a few big, group projects, ultimately learned nothing, and your grade depended on the work ethic of others. You glanced over at Temari. She likely didn’t even have the same major as you. Granted, that was probably the point of the class, but nonetheless, it weighed on your already drooping eyes knowing that you’d have to pour so many late night hours into a project that would amount to nothing.

You pulled up your school account and sifted through your notifications.

“I signed us up for a research question. I thought that censorship in the classroom was an easy and relevant one. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to get into the intricacies of drones at this time of day.” You couldn’t help but nod. Temari sure pounced on top of things quickly and for that, you were thankful to have received an easy prompt.

“Sounds great,” you mused and the heavy door from the outside to the longue slammed shut. You glanced over your shoulder to find Kisame, still in athletic clothes grinning as he approached.

“Well this is bullshit, isn’t it?” Those were the first words to come out of his mouth and you could practically hear Temari groan in exasperation. Kisame plopped down in the armchair beside you, offering you a wink as he did. “What kinda professor assigns a project on Tuesday only for it to be due Thursday? Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

You averted your eyes back to your screen, pretending to sort through your notifications. You hummed in response, too easily flustered and too tired to process. Temari’s fingers flexed over her own keyboard.

“It’s the beginning of the semester. It’s to test out organizational skills and teamwork,” she managed through half-gritted teeth. You looked between your two teammates, wondering what exactly happened between them that made them so hostile to each other. You made a mental note to not get in the way of whatever that was. Kisame scoffed, sitting back in the arm chair and reaching for his own computer.

“I don’t really care what it is and why it is. What I care about is that I’m wasting my Wednesday night…”

“Ah, yes, Wednesday night,” Temari repeated mockingly, “Because I know that I like getting plastered in the middle of the week.” Kisame leaned towards you on his left arm cushion.

“Soy Sauce over there is just sore that her brother picked a fight with one of my boys and lost. Sasori’s a short guy too, you should link with us sometime.” You heard Temari scoff.

“Yeah, like Kankuro would lose to any of the thugs you hang around—”

“Who are you calling a thug?” Temari met Kisame’s pointed glare. Even so, he sank farther into his seat, lifting one ankle to rest on his knee. “Though, I think it says something that you knew exactly what I was talking about—” He punctuated every word with a smug swing of his head before Shino walked in.

“Nice to see that things are lively in here.” He made his way across the lounge before plopping down next to Temari. A white piece of cloth hung out from his backpack, something that Temari didn’t miss as Shino prepared his materials.

“That’s a hazard.” She bit the inside of her lip.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s been grumpy since before you came here,” Kisame quickly explained, much to Temari’s disdain.

Looking across from you, you almost wished that you had just been paired up with Shino. You didn’t know him that well, but he seemed smart, capable and overall, quiet. Temari had drive, but her approach felt intense. Meanwhile, Kisame seemed like he couldn’t care less about the project. Or perhaps, it was more that he couldn’t care less about Temari.

“So the paper,” you began out of sheer nervousness. “And the presentation…” The three sets of eyes turned to you. You glanced at the clock. You had already wasted more than a half hour.

“Let’s be real here, a five page research paper is nothing,” Temari said, also crossing her legs. “It’s the presentation that we should worry about.” Kisame let out a breath.

“Well, here I was about to say the opposite.” He turned his neck to the side and you heard a few audible cracks. “What about we split it up if the paper is so easy for you?”

“I’m not just doing the paper by myself. Besides, I’d need to find sources and by the time I’ve found sources and written everything up, I’ll have done most of the work.” Temari wrinkled her nose at your partner next to you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you were banking on.”

“Here.” Shino’s low voice broke through the room. With one exaggerated click on his keyboard he looked up at the three of you. “I just put a list of sources in the shared doc. There’s ten of them which should be more than enough. I pulled a few articles and a few academic papers which should meet the criteria from the rubric.”

Temari blinked down at her computer, furiously switching tabs. Her lips formed a round ‘o’ shape.

“Nice work, Shino,” you praised only to receive a shy nod. “I think if we take an anti-censorship stance, it’ll make out work easier given the time that we have to finish. Maybe Temari, you can start the paper and I can start the slides.”

“I can help you with that,” Kisame offered and you typed his email into the share box.

“I’ll help Temari with the paper,” Shino said with another nod.

“Start with the counterarguments. I’ll work from the top, you work from the bottom.” Temari gestured widely to Shino’s screen and you let out a relieved sigh. Maybe you’ll be able to get all of this done after all.

Time flew during the late hours of the night. You didn’t know what it was about the nighttime that made time feel quicker than usual. Soon enough, the clock struck one. Temari plucked ferociously at her laptop and it surprised you that Kisame hadn’t asked her what she was punishing her keyboard for. Shino, on the other hand, liked to stand. About an hour ago, he had stood up from his seat, and with one foot on the low level of the coffee table, kept at writing his part of the paper. Temari and Shino didn’t speak much. Rather, their side of the table mostly sounded of clicking.

Meanwhile, you and Kisame were having a great time. He made you laugh much to Temari’s annoyance, but knowing that you were getting your parts done, she didn’t comment. Despite his outward physique, Kisame had a sense of style when it came to design and organization. You flew through fonts and images quickly and by the time you had cleared the first few slides, even you were impressed by how professional it looked. The clock read two o’clock.

“This was your conclusion, right?” You turned your screen in your hands to face Temari. She squinted over and her eyes lit up.

“Actually, that’s a way better wording. Imma just steal that…” She clicked some more. “That’s some great work.”

“It was actually all Kisame.” And to your surprise, he didn’t gloat. Instead, he remained eerily focused. Temari glanced at him before glancing away.

“Like I said, great work…” she muttered.

“We’re almost done with the slides,” you announced, “Do you guys need help with the paper?” Shino shook his head. You found that he preferred non-verbal answers.

“We’re wrapping up over here, too,” Temari answered.

“Good, because I’m fuckin’ starving.”

And with the one mention of food, you all looked up at each other.

***

There was only one place open this late at night and it was one block away from campus. Fast Food, of course, but no one in your group complained. The dining halls were closed and most of you didn’t keep your rolling pantries stocked with anything worth eating at two in the morning, so you packed up your things.

It felt odd walking down the road with this group of people. You chattered amongst yourselves about anything other than your assignment.

“Me? I’m a biology major. I want to study beetles but I have to get my undergrad before I can do anything really specific.” By far, Shino had to be the most interesting of you all. You made your way off of campus, the restaurant in your sight. And as the walk continued, so did your conversation.

“I’ve wanted to try the new place that they opened up by admissions but they’re always closed when I try to go.” Temari pouted and you crossed the street together. You wondered if spending four straight hours having to communicate with any three people could make talking to them this easy.

“Marine biology?” You stared up at Kisame. “I don’t think I would have guessed.” He let out a hearty laugh that sent a few birds flying.

“Oh yeah, they have us go out of labs for the whole day. And when I say the whole day, I mean the whole day. I’ve always loved the ocean, but I think I’d have to transfer if I had to wake up at seven and come back at eight for more than one day a week.” Kisame reached for the handle, only for it not to budge in his grip. He tried again.

“Are they closed?” you asked, getting slightly agitated at the prospect.

“No.” Shino cupped his hands around his eyes as he stared through the window. “Wet floor signs are out. This must be the time that they clean the dining room.” Shino hardly had to finish his sentence before Kisame was already on his way to the drive thru.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Temari yelled after him as she jogged to catch up. “You can’t just walk through the drive thru.”

“Sure you can.” Kisame stood directly in front of the speaker with his hands in his pockets. “There are no cars around and even if there were, they’d have to take our order to get us out of the way… Hello?” The speaker crackled and Kisame shot a pointed look at the rest of you before moting for you to come closer to order.

“What can I get you?” the apathetic worker droned.

“Can I get a number nine?” Kisame started.

“Oh me too,” you whispered to him, not entirely sure why you spoke with such a hushed tone. He crossed his arms with a smirk.

“Make that two number nines? One large—” He stepped back to let Temari come up to the speaker.

“May I please get a number six with extra sauce, please? And, uh, a number seven too, please.” Like Kisame before her, Temari stepped to allow Shino to talk.

“Two number forty-fives, one with cheese and a large soda.”

With nowhere else to sit, you claimed a spot in the empty parking lot. Temari ended up paying. You put up a fight, but she insisted. You were secretly convinced that she was loaded anyway.

“You two got a lot of food.” Kisame handed you your fillet burger. Temari hummed, taking one of her backs and folded it behind her.

“One’s for my boyfriend,” she said, and before Kisame could get out a snarky comment about how Temari could ever land a boyfriend, Shino answered,

“I just usually eat all at once. Can’t usually grab dinner while doing night labs.” You all grimaced to yourselves. You knew the feeling of skipping meals because of your schedules.

You looked out at the city. Your school sat on a hill just outside of the twinkling lights. You found comfort in the blinking that came from below and your surroundings made the atmosphere feel completely still.

“You know, if we have a choice, we should just stick together for the rest of the semester.” Shino’s monotone voice cut through the air. You turned to the rest of them. Temari shrugged.

“It’s less of a gamble since we know each other, I suppose. I know that most of you won’t mess up our assignments…” You and Kisame nodded along, both stuffing your faces with french fries.

The decision was unanimous.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: 

Shino’s lab coat was in with his regular supplies which is technically a hazard when working in chem and bio labs since lab coats should be sealed. 

Not all fast-food places well take your order without a car, but if you block the line they’ll give in (that’s what I did). Don’t blame me if you get arrested for doing that though. 

"I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda."– Melvin "Big Smoke" Harris

[miraculouscontent]

I just checked the ML tag, and apparently, there's a new episode called "Gang of Secrets." Have you seen it? If yes, what happens in it?

Summary below:

- Episode opens with Ladybug having just used Miraculous Ladybug. After landing on a rooftop with her, Chat Noir compliments her strength and states that they’ve never fought a villain that fast before. He then goes to fist-bump her but she ignores him, seemingly distracted as she looks around. Chat Noir calls her, snapping her out of her trance, and asks her what’s wrong. She pretends to be okay and fist-bumps him, then yoyos higher up the rooftop and asks if they should do a patrol since they need to recheck if everything fine in Paris. Chat interjects and asks if she wants to tell him what’s wrong instead, noting that she didn’t even react when he called her “Bugaboo.” Ladybug still insists that everything is fine, saying that she has time left but she also doesn’t want to talk. Chat jumps up to her level and assures her that he knows the ideal place to “not talk,” to which Ladybug happily states that she’ll follow him there.

- Cut to Ladybug and Chat Noir in a movie theater with a romantic movie currently playing. Ladybug calls Chat Noir out for leading her into a “trap,” to which Chat shushes her and reminds her that she didn’t want to talk. Two movie-goers nearby glance at them for talking, Chat waving and then making a “shh” movement in response, to which they smile. Chat then fakes the stereotypical stretching motion to try and land his arm on Ladybug’s shoulder, but she stands up abruptly, shouting at the movie for the female lead to not tell her male love interest anything else.

- Chat Noir tries to tell Ladybug to keep her voice down, but she starts ranting about how romantic movies are lame and unrealistic. She goes to to say that, in real life, the girl takes a crazily long time to tell the boy that she loves him without stuttering, and it’s impossible to know if he loves her too, so she decides that she’s never going to be with him, and “boom,” she falls in love with someone else. Chat is getting progressively more uncomfortable at Ladybug’s outbursts and Ladybug goes onto say that everything is simple, “almost too easy,” no stammering, they hold and kiss, then--surprise, she has secrets and the boy hates secrets, which is normal, but then they have to breakup and everything’s miserable, the end. She criticizes romantic comedies for being “whatever” and Chat notices the the two moviegoers from earlier glaring at them, so he apologizes to them and leads Ladybug out of the theater.

- On the way out, Ladybug is offering the people in line for the theater advice by telling them not to see romantic comedies, suggesting that they see superhero movies instead: special effects, no feelings, no questions, and no one talks to each other because there’s nothing to say. She adds that at least they will have a good time, then finally leaves the theater in a huff, Chat Noir looking awkward and unable to do anything but wave and apologize at everyone before following Ladybug out.

- Chat walks behind Ladybug, who has gone from angry to sad/distressed. He comments that he didn’t understand everything she said and he knows nothing of her personal life, but he knows what a broken heart is like and that’s what she seems to be going through for him. Ladybug turns to face him and denies it, insisting that everything is going perfectly. She then diverts the conversation, suggesting that they go to the swimming pool and she wants to go. Chat tells her that he’s here for her if she needs to talk, but Ladybug swings off and heads for the pool. Chat Noir sighs.

- Cut to AquaBug descending from her balcony and onto her bed, complete in goggles and a towel around her neck. She collapses onto the bed Barkk and Ziggy start flying over. AquaBug looks at her corkboard of Adrien and Luka pictures, then turns away, clearly depressed. Ziggy comments on how sad this all is, to which Barkk said that she told Ziggy previously that they should remove the pictures. They go to do so now but AquaBug turns and tells them to stop, insisting that she’s not sad and the pictures don’t bother her. She insists that they’re just pictures of her friends and that she loves fashion and her friends, telling them to leave them where they are, sulking back onto her bed while insisting there’s no problem. Ziggy and Barkk leave.

- Cut to Alya and JARM (Juleka, Alix, Rose, and Mylene, for those uninitiated) in Alya’s room, where Alya states that Marinette has a problem and it’s lovesickness. She pulls up some pictures on her tablet of Marinette and Adrien (all where Marinette is either anxious or clumsy/screwing up), explains that she was in love with Adrien in the beginning, but never managed to tell him because “it’s Marinette they’re talking about and he’s Adrien.” Alya then shows pictures of Marinette and Luka, adding that then Luka enters the scene and Marinette gets to talk to him because “it’s Luka” and they get together. Rose comments that they’re both cute, but Alya adds that they broke up, to which Juleka nods and mumbles something unintelligible, pulling out her phone to show the girls a picture of Luka looking notably depressed. The girls sigh.

- Alya states that the bottom line is that Marinette never told them about it, and the only reason they knew about the break-up was that Luka told Juleka, who told Rose, who told Mylene, who told Alix, who told Alya herself. Alya laments that she’s Marinette’s best friend and didn’t know, then the scene cuts to a flashback where Alya narrates that she heard Marinette crying in the bathroom. When Alya went to check on her, Marinette opened the door with a diguise (glasses, nose, and a mustache) to cover her face, insisting that she wasn’t crying and she’s never been so happy before in her life, adding that they should throw a party.

- Cut back to the girls in Alya’s room. Rose asks why Marinette would hide things from them and Alix notes that it must be a problem if Marinette didn’t even tell Alya. Mylene asks what they should do an Alya suggests that what Marinette needs is a discussion between friends, proposing that they all call her to talk about it. The girls do some sort of five-way fist-bump completely with making a rabbit ears sign at the end.

- Marinette, still AquaBug, is sulking on her bed when her phone starts ringing, but she ignores it. Back with Alya and JARM, Alya notes that it’ll probably go to the answering machine, which it does. Cut back to AquaBug, who hears that she now has a message and taps her phone without looking to listen to it. Her friends’ voices greet her and tell her that she should know that they’re there to talk, when or where she wants. They request that she call them back, they tell her they love her and add “kisses,” then the message ends. AquaBug simply slumps back onto her bed.

- Some of the kwami hover nearby, with Barkk saying that they must intervene and will need Tikki. Trixx offers to take care of it and flies down, suggesting to AquaBug to communicate with her friends on her “talking device.” AquaBug asks what she’d say because “everything is fine.” Trixx then suggests at least de-transforming, to which AquaBug insists that she’s better off as Ladybug because she’ll be ready if Shadow Moth attacks. Trixx points out Tikki and states that she might want to rest of have a bite to eat, which finally gets AquaBug up in a panic. She de-transforms and Tikki lands in her hands. She asks Tikki if she’s already and Tikki chimes that she’s definitely better than how Marinette is doing, suggesting that they talk. Marinette, already teary-eyed, lowers her head in defeat.

- Back with Alya and JARM, Alya suggests that they all go to Marinette’s house. Mylene then gets an idea of an “eternal friendship bracelet,” pulling out a bracelet of yellow threads along with some beads. She adds that it’s so Marinette doesn’t forget that friends can tell each other everything and that they’re always there for her. She starts passing out beads to each girl (Alya - orange, Juleka - purple, Alix - green, Rose - pink), explaining that she read in an old magazine about an ancient tribe in America who did that, going onto say that they mentally confide a secret to the pearl, adding the pearl to the bracelet, and once Marinette confides her own secret, the bracelet will unite all six of them. She adds hers - the blue one - to the bracelet and asks if the others are ready, to which Alix asks if it’d be easier to just take her out for orange juice to talk. The rest of the girls give her blank expressions in response and Alix relents.

- Meanwhile, Marinette is staring at her corkboard, Tikki besides her eating a macaron, and Marinette laments that she can’t have a love story so long as she’s Ladybug. Tikki, shocked, asks her why she’d think that and Marinette says that Tikki knows very well, explaining that she had to leave Luka because she couldn’t tell him the truth and it’d just be the same for Adrien. She adds that she can’t share her secret with anyone, unable to be honest with her best friend, her parents, or anyone, and condemned to lie, all the time, to everyone. Marinette asks what she can do and Tikki admits that she wishes she could help but kwami don’t fall in love. Marinette laments that no one can help her and her life as Marinette is too complicated. She adds that it might be better to just be Ladybug all the time, then calls upon Tikki to transform her. She then leaves for the balcony and the kwami look upon her, sad, when they hear voices from below.

- Alya and JARM enter Marinette’s room and the kwami quickly flee into the dollhouse concealing the Miracle Box. Rose notices the dollhouse right away and coos over how cute it is, urges the girls to come look as well. Mylene comments that it’s another super creation from Marinette and Alya says that Marinette must be on the roof, saying that she’ll go get her as she heads for the staricase.

- Up on the balcony, Ladybug is shouting at nothing, asking Hawk Moth (not Shadow Moth?) what he’s waiting for and that she’s ready for him. When there’s no response, she sighs and walks back, dropping onto her bed. She hears Alya calling for her as she comes up the steps and Ladybug hurriedly whispers her de-transformation phrase just in time.

- Marinette asks what she’s doing there and Alya says that they’re here to see how she’s doing. Marinette then hears Rose cooing over the house and Marinette panics, hurrying down just as Rose says that she’ll remove the roof to see what’s inside. Marinette avoids the stairs entirely, dropping from the bed to forcefully pull Rose out of the way, standing protectively in front of the dollhouse. Rose drops the roof from the motion and it breaks on the ground, all girls looking on in shock as Rose apologizes for it. She reaches down to pick up the roof and Marinette requests that they get out of her room. Alya insists that it’s nothing and they’ll help her fix it, but Marinette raises her voice and demands that they leave.

- Alya, now annoyed, states that there’s obviously something going on and they won’t leave until she tells them what it is. Mylene holds up the bracelet and says that each one of them has given their secrets to it, so now it’s her turn. Marinette responds that she’ll tell them what’s wrong, then points out that they all walked into her room without her permission. The girls look briefly surprised, then Alya takes the bracelet and holds it out, insisting that they’re friends and Marinette must tell them everything. Rose adds that real friends never let each other down, and the camera cuts to Marinette with her hand behind her, desperately trying to hold the dollhouse behind her together.

- Panicking, Marinette angrily says that she doesn’t want them as friends then, snapping at them and ordering them to leave. The girls are stunned, then begin to file out of the room sadly. Marinette sadly watches them go, but averts her gaze when Alya - the last one out - makes eye contact with her. Now that everyone’s gone, Marinette collapses onto the floor, the dollhouse falling to piece behind her. Tikki flies over and Marinette tells her that she had no other choice. Tikki assures her that she knows, and Marinette says that she doesn’t have to lie anymore since she doesn’t have any friends to lie to. Tikki sighs sadly.

- At the bakery, Sabine watches with concern as Alya and JARM walk past them to leave. Sabine tries to call after them to ask what’s wrong, but they ignore her. Shadow Moth sees his opportunity and sends his akuma.

- At the park next to the bakery, the girls are sitting in a circle. Alya, holding the bracelet, laments that she lost her best friend, then passes the bracelet to Mylene. Mylene says that she’d hoped it would work, then passes it to Rose. Rose sobs about how sad it all is, then passes the bracelet to Juleka. Juleka mumbles something unintelligible, then passes the bracelet to Alix. Alix states that it can’t end like this, at which point the akuma hits the bracelet, all five girls being hit by Shadow Moth’s symbol. Shadow Moth introduces himself and states that their friend didn’t want to tell them her secrets, so he’ll grant them the powers to get them out by force in return for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses. Alya states that Marinette must remain their friend, Alix chimes in that it’ll be whether she wants to or not, Mylene adds that she won’t keep secrets from her friends anymore, and Juleka mumbles something unintelligible again. They all proceed to get akumatized into their most notable forms: Lady Wifi (who says she’ll take care of catching her), Princess Fragrance (who states that Marinette under her scent will have to put up her secrets), Timebreaker (who adds that they’ll turn back time to make everything like it used to be), and Reflekta (who says that they’ll comfort her and she’ll be their friend again). Lady Wifi adds that Horrificator will keep Ladybug and Chat Noir at bay if they try to intervene.

- Back with Marinette, the pieces of the dollhouse have been thrown away and Marinette places the Miracle Box in a brand new contraption of hers, where she has to press switches in a specific order to open and close it. She sighs in relief, at which point her phone goes off and Lady Wifi emerges from it. The kwami hide inside the box and Lady Wifi tells Marinette that she’s here for her and she’s her best friend, adding that she better tell them all of her secrets and she’ll feel much better afterwards. The kwami look on with concern and Trixx starts charging his powers. Wayzz tells to be careful and he shouldn’t do that, with Barkk asking Trixx if he remembers “last time” he used his power without a holder. Trixx points out that Marinette can’t reveal her secret, then uses Mirage.

- “Marinette” runs for the staircase, leaping up and hurrying to the balcony. Lady Wifi gives chase and sees “Marinette” now down from the balcony heading for the school, so she pursues, idly wondering how she did that. She fires at “Marinette,” telling her not to run and reminding her that they’re friends. The rest of the akumatized girls join up with Lady Wifi and they hurry inside the school. “Marinette,” who is not hiding, vanishes, as she was only an illusion.

- The illusion in Marinette’s room drops and Marinette thanks Trixx for it. Marinette then transforms into Ladybug and heads for the stairscase, stopping halfway to ask Trixx about using his powers without a holder since it’s supposed to cause a disaster. Trixx shrugs and states that his power only causes illusions, so any damage will also be illusory. Ladybug leaves and Trixx gets glared at by Wayzz and Barkk, to which he tells them not to be annoyed since Miraculous Ladybug will be everything... he hopes.

- Ladybug leaves her balcony and notices that the Eiffel Tower seems to be gyrating. She groans Trixx’s name, then yoyos away. The scene then cuts to Adrien in his room watching TV, where the news is talking about the Eiffel Tower’s odd behavior. Plagg says that he bet it was Trixx who did it, then explains that it’s the kwami of illusion when Adrien asks who Trixx is. Adrien states that it’s not an illusion and Ladybug needs help, Plagg groaning about needing to help whether it’s him who makes a mistake or not. Adrien transforms.

- In the school’s library, Lady Wifi and Timebreaker enter, the people in the library freaking as as the two go off and uses their powers, Lady Wifi firing randomly and Timebreaker touching people to get more energy to go back in time. Horrificator also scares people in the bathroom in order to power up, while Reflekta and Princess Fragrance enter the art room and asks if anyone’s seen Marinette. When they shake their heads at them, Princess Fragrance adds that they’ll help them find her, both her and Reflekta firing at all of them. The Reflekta copies leave the school and go to search for Marinette. The akumatized girl squad then exit the school, with Lady Wifi saying that Marinette is hidden somewhere and suggesting they separate.

- While the akumatized girl squad goes on a rampage, Chat Noir is running across the rooftops and quckly hides somewhere, calling Ladybug on his baton. Ladybug answers and Chat comments that the supervillains are “having a party and they haven’t been invited.” Ladybug explains that they’re searching for their classmate, Marinette, to which Chat comments that they’ve saved her multiple times yet everyone seems to like her. Ladybug adds that it seems like Marinette got into a fight with her friends all at once, looking down sadly. Chat Noir asks if she’s still there (I legitimately don’t know what else he was expecting her to say considering she answered his question) due to the silence of the call, to which Ladybug tells him that she was thinking. She points out that they’ll have a hard time finding the object since there are five akumatized villains, and Chat infers that she already has an idea. Ladybug does, saying that she wants to isolate one of them so she can tell her where the akuma is, but Chat needs to stop Timebreaker specifically from going back in time or else the plan might fail. Chat agrees and wishes her good luck, Ladybug doing the same in kind before hanging up.

- Timebreaker, who is rollerblading around and touching people, is stopped by Chat Noir, who tries to banter with her. Timebreaker states that she can’t be wasting time with him and attacks, Chat Noir blocking with his baton.

- Meanwhile, Lady Wifi is leaping across rooftops when she’s suddenly entangled and brought down by Ladybug’s yoyo, dropping her phone in the process. Ladybug steps on it, but there’s no akuma inside. Ladybug is surprised and Lady Wifi mocks her, stating that it’s “too bad” and that she’s not the one with the akuma. Ladybug says that it’s no big deal and she just wanted to talk. Lady Wifi responds by saying that she won’t tell Ladybug anything.

- Cut back to Timebreaker and Chat Noir fighting. Shadow Moth contacts the akumatized JARM and tells them that Lady Wifi is struggling against Ladybug, to which they agree to take care of it. Timebreaker leaves even as Chat Noir tries to get her to come back.

- Back with Ladybug and Lady Wifi, Ladybug asks if she’s having problems with her best friend. Lady Wifi isn’t talking, averting her gaze, while the akumatized JARM is shown to be on their way. Ladybug pretends not to know what happened between Alya and Marinette, but says that she’d like to talk to Lady Wifi about a friend of hers; a superhero, Rena Rouge. This catches Lady Wifi’s attention and Ladybug adds that they obviously have secrets between each other, even just because of her secret identity, but that they trust one another anyway even if they can’t tell each other everything, which allows them to fight alongside each other. Lady Wifi looks downwards in thought and Ladybug tells her that she can reject Shadow Moth’s power.

- Lady Wifi shuts her eyes tight, focusing. Shadow Moth’s symbol appears over her face, with Shadow Moth telling her not to listen because she’ll never know Marinette’s secret if she doesn’t, nor Ladybug’s. Lady Wifi falters and Ladybug tells her that she has absolute trust in her and that she needs her; she needs Rena Rouge. Lady Wifi clenches her fists and clutches her head, Ladybug watching tensely as Lady Wifi break freak of Shadow Moth’s mind, Shadow Moth himself shown to be holding his head from the mental impact, stating that such a thing is impossible.

- Lady Wifi de-transforms and Alya collapses. Ladybug goes to her and helps her up, calling her incredible and stating that no one’s ever done that before. Alya says that it’s because Ladybug is an incredible friend and they fist bump. Ladybug then gets a call from Chat that the Gang of Secrets is looking for her, adding that he’s trying to stop them - currently in the middle of fighting all but Horrificator - but doesn’t know how long he can hold them back. Shadow Moth contacts the remaining four akuamtized girls and tells them that Lady Wifi betrayed them and preferred Ladybug’s team, ordering them to hurry up and deal with Chat so they can take care of Ladybug.

- Ladybug asks Alya which object the akuma is in. Alya explains that it’s in a bracelet that Timebreaker should have, but that Ladybug and Chat Noir won’t be able to defeat four villains at the same time (meanwhile, me having flashbacks to “Mayura”). Ladybug says that it’s time to call the mistress of illusions and pulls out her yoyo. She opens it, reaching inside a ladybug-patterned portal to pull out the fox miraculous. Alya is in awe and asks how she did that, Ladybug explaining that it’s something new that happened since she became the guardian of the miraculouses (before anyone asks; no, there was no pre-established moment of her realizing that she could do this). Alya is about to loudly repeating “the guardian of the miraculouses,” but stops halfway and slaps her hands over her mouth. Ladybug tells her to keep the scoop to herself and especially not to post it on the LadyBlog. Alya promises and adds that she knows how to keep a secret, promptly putting on the necklace and transforming.

- Meanwhile, Reflekta has Chat down on the ground, sitting on his back with his arm (the one with his ring) twisted behind him, and . Ladybug and Rena Rouge watch from a distance and Ladybug uses Lucky Charm, getting an inner tube in response. Her lucky visions spots Timebreaker, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, then the building with the swimming poll. Ladybug tells Rena that she has a plan.

- Back with Chat and the akumatized JARM, Chat threatens Timebreaker that he’ll activate his power if she tries to take the ring, and who knows what’ll happen to her then. Princess Fragrance approaches and asks why they should bother taking it by force when she can just make him her slave and make him give it to her. Ladybug then tells Rena Rouge that it’s time to use her power, Rena hopping up to higher on the rooftop and using Mirage.

- An illusion of Marinette appears, crying out for Chat Noir in concern. The akumatized JARM notice her and all four run off to chase her, even as Hawk Moth protests and orders them to take Chat’s miraculous first. Ladybug and Rena Rouge descend to help Chat Noir up, who thanks them for the help. Ladybug tells him that’s what friends are for, then tells both Chat and Rena to go to the pool. Chat asks what she’s going to do and Ladybug says that she’ll distract the akumatized JARM, adding that Rena will explain the rest of plan.

- The illusion of Marinette runs into the building with the swimming pool, Ladybug descending just as the remaining members of the Gang of Secrets try to pursue her. Shadow Moth orders his group to take Ladybug’s miraculous and Timebreaker tells the other three to deal with Ladybug while she takes care of Marinette. Ladybug lets Timebreaker jump over her to head inside, then tries to defend herself against the remaining three. However, Horrificator (very large from all the people she’s scared) snatches up Ladybug within a few seconds, holding her in one hand while Princess Fragrance holds up to Horrificator’s shoulder and walks along her arm to head for Ladybug.

- Back with Mirage’d Marinette, she looks behind her to see Timebreaker there. Timebreaker says that it’s time to reveal her secrets, and the scene briefly cuts back to Princess Fragrance telling Ladybug not to resist, adding that she’ll soon do everything they’ll tell her to, ordering her to give them her miraculous first. Shadow Moth is in his lair, saying that it’s his time (i.e: that he’s about to win). Timebreaker tells Marinette that she can’t escape her and Marinette runs onto a plank at the center of the pool. Time breaker makes a giant leap up and starts descending on Marinette, reaching out to touch her, but Rena Rouge drops her illusion, both Marinette and the plank underneath her fading. Timebreaker gasps in shock and plummets upside-down into the water, at which point AquaChat slips the inner tube on her, trapping her arms at her sides. He pulls her down, then lets go, forcing Timebreaker up out of the water, flipping and landing right-side-up. Chat then uses Cataclysm and breaks the object, freeing the akuma. Timebreaker de-akumatizes into Alix, who looks around in confusion and watches the akuma fly off.

- Meanwhile, Princess Fragrance is about to take Ladybug’s earrings when she starts de-akumatizing too, as well as Horrificator and Reflekta. Ladybug and Rose fall due to no longer being supported by Horrificator’s body, and Ladybug safely catches Rose, who thanks her. Ladybug lets her go with a smile, then notices the akuma leaving the swimming pool building, pulling out her yoyo and de-akumatizing it. That done, she casts Miraculous Ladybug, returning everything - including the still-gyrating Eiffel Tower - back to normal.

- JARM are hugging Ladybug looks down sadly. Rena holds out her fist for a pound and Ladybug looks over to see that Chat Noir is also ready for one. The three pound it and the scene cuts to Shadow Moth’s lair where he’s seen monologing about how Ladybug’s made mistakes in the past and she will make more (goes without saying, my dude, considering it’s literally a rule of the show and objectively the dumbest one, you ain’t cool for predicting what’s already confirmed), adding that he’ll end up finding out her secret on day.

- Rena Rouge and Ladybug land in an alley and Rena de-transformed, Alya high-fiving Trixx afterwards. Alya returns the miraculous to Ladybug and thanks her, Ladybug adding that - without her and Char Noir’s help - she wouldn’t have been able to succeed. She tells Alya that she’s lucky to have friends like her, thanking her, and Alya hugs her. Ladybug returns the embrace and the scene cuts to Marinette, now holding the “eternal friendship bracelet” in both hands.

- Marinette admits to the girls that her break-up with Luka broke her heart and not being able to tell Adrien how she felt also made her feel terrible. She slumps onto her chaise lounge and laments over how difficult love is, saying that she thinks she’ll focus on friendship from now on because it’s already complicated enough keeping her friends. Rose tells her to take her time and Mylene assures her that everything will work out, Alya approaches and taking Marinette’s hands to say that - whatever happens - they’re always there for her. Alya then pulls Marinette off the chaise and all the girls hug her, Alix chiming into say that - whenever Marinette feels ready - she can say so and they’ll come up with an “awesome plan” to tell Adiren, Luka, or whoever that she loves them. Everyone laughs and Marinette comments that she loves the girls, leading them to hug again.

- Alya and JARM are on their way out, Alix saying good-bye and Rose saying that they’ll see Marinette tomorrow. Marinette waves, then glances at the friendship bracelet now on her wrist, looking down at it sadly. Alya - again, the last one out - notices and tells the other girls that she’ll join them later because she has one last thing to say to Marinette. Alya then shuts the trap door and goes over to Marinette, taking her by the shoulder and leading her back towards the chaise.

- Alya tells Marinette that she didn’t tell them everything, and she can tell because she’s a reporter and her best friend and she feels those kinds of things. Marinette slumps back onto the chaise and Alya assures her that she’s not going to investigate or force Marinette to tell her what it is. She settles down on the chaise and puts a hand on Marinette’s back, saying that it’s in Marinette’s right if she doesn’t want to talk about what’s happening. Marinette asks if they’ll always be friends and Alya says that she’s her best friend and always will be, which is why it hurts her to not be able to help Marinette feel less alone. Marinette averts her gaze sadly and Alya sighs, getting back up and starting to leave.

- Marinette then catches Alya’s hand, telling her to stay. Alya looks back and Marinette admits that Alya’s right and she’s very lonely; more alone than ever before, and she’s finding it harder and hard to resist it. She points out that she didn’t break up with Luka because she didn’t like him - he’s amazing - and the break-up was because there’s something she can’t tell him, adding that she’s drawing a line with Adrien because it’ll be the same with him. She admits that she has secrets and lies all the time - to her friends, to her parents, to everyone - and how the worst part is that she can’t do a thing about it. Alya says that there’s always a choice and Marinette argues that there’s not one for her; that it’s beyond just them and it’s too heavy of a burden to carry. Alya suggests that they’d at least be two to carry it if it’s too heavy, and Marinette laments that things will never be the same if she tells her; that it’ll destroy everything and change it all. Alya assures Marinette that, whatever she says, she’s her friend, and Marinette starts to say something before she cuts herself of, pausing, then turns to Alya and tells her that she’s Ladybug.

- Alya’s brows raises in surprise, the two doing nothing but stare at each other before Alya looks pained and leans in to hug Marinette, who hugs her in return. The kwami are seen hovering above them and the episode ends.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (3)

A/N: INDEX

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual alludes, and... that’s it??

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee @bforbroadway @okaydraco

So her name was Y/N.

Draco couldn't help himself but wonder about her for the past few days, after their encounter in the restaurant. As he thought more and more of her, he decided she was more of a changeable person, judging on what he had learned about her; timid and coy one day in the lobby when he first arrived, and plainly confident on another when she approached him to return his fucking wand.

And did she believe in that fictive tale about him playing a magician? Did she sense his sudden abashment when she started to question him on the subject?

He blamed himself for the whole situation, which could have never happened if he only were more careful. He assumed he had lost the wand when his mother furiously dragged him back to his hotel room from the bar he had stopped by for a while. Perhaps, it was when he had handed the receptionist, Y/N, the letter, and it just dropped out of his pocket as he was taking an envelope out.

Fortunately for him, it found its way back. So he didn't have to trouble his head with that now, right?

One issue, however, stuck to his thoughts and vividly came back every time he glanced at his hand, only to see blurry words written with a hard-to-efface ink. Of course, by none other than Y/N.

A few days back, she had scribbled her name and a number on his palm, and since then, he tried to figure out what it was for. He knew he couldn't walk out to the city and stop people in the middle of the pavement to ask for an explanation for the note because it would be as irrational and bizarre as it sounds. The second thought was to ask his mother for an additional conjecture about that by sending an owl. But then he quickly remembered, he didn't have access to any of owls here and -- so and so -- he didn't know the address Narcissa was staying at.

So both options were excluded.

Soon enough, however, the situation cropped up. Someday around six in the morning, still sound asleep and immersed in the dreams, the strange, alarming sound rang up in his bedroom, echoing off the walls and waking half of the death of him as he heard it. He flopped off his bed with the sheets falling along with him, and he began looking for the source of the noise. Then he noticed: a white handset and a set of ten digits next to it; he picked it up -- it was only a hotel checking up if he needed anything.

From then on, everything lined up and made a perfectly logical sense in his head -- it was a muggle device to communicate with each other. If you were desperate enough not to meet up with somebody in the real-life, you were likely to click nine digits and either meet with the receiver's voice or voicemail on the other side. So here was a purpose of the number.

Draco also discovered these things were so-called phones. And they were sold in various forms and types like the models of brooms in the Wizarding World -- from less to most exclusive ones. Little did his consciousness helped him, but after an hour, he was already out in the city and walking next to the shops' exhibitions and searching for an electronics store to buy himself one of those.

Why did he want to buy the phone? He could lie and say that it was only in case of emergency. But admitting truthfully to himself, he felt a nagging curiosity about those devices and wanted to understand this part of the muggle world. And something, more of a hunch than reasoning, told him that he soon might be needing one of those.

Later that day, after wandering for almost an hour and stepping into some cafeteria for lunch, he was finally holding a fucking iPhone in his hand. It had a lot of fancy shining buttons and a small, black partly-bitten apple on the back, and some kind of virtual assistant (at least that's what he had heard from a salesman) Siri with a very posh British accent. Having been advised to purchase it, Draco did so even without a second thought.

He paid for it with some muggle money his mother provided him before her departure, and walked out of the store, having it packed in a nice paper bag with a receipt and a SIM card. He decided on opening it when he reaches his room, and meanwhile, look around the area for some entertainment or something in those terms, to preoccupy himself.

Actually, Draco hadn't been too much in foreign countries, and hauling him out to Muggle London was a miracle, much more to Muggle Paris. He could find a similarity, but it was much different here -- cars honking at each other at the traffic jam; countless shops with clothes; restaurants with delicious food; people babbling at one another in French but also in Italian and German, and English. It was chaotic; it was loud, and he had to watch his feet in order to not trip over by someone else.

Draco felt lost in that mess. Random people encouraging him to visit the shops he would never intend to drop by, strangers pushing him in a rush and mumbling indistinct 'Sorry' for stepping on his shoes, some even too bothered to even look at him. Partly, he wished he had never listened to Narcissa and instead spending time with Thoe, Blaise, or whosoever and talking about irrelevant stuff like the score of the last Quiddich match (Banchory Bangers against Falmouth Falcons) or about the latest affairs with the Ministry of Magic.

And what was he even doing here?

In mere seconds, he decided on changing a route back again to the hotel instead of meandering aimlessly and optimistically, waiting for some godsend to find.

What he wasn't, however, considering was actually finding some godsend in front of the revolving doors of the hotel building.

Yet again, as if some supernatural powers brought them to the same place every time, he was standing on the opposite side of the door where Y/N. It was the late afternoon, so instead of wearing the usual white shirt in the composition of black jeans, she had a green top and striped, yellow shorts with a small watch on her wrist.

She was turned, slightly to the side, so it was her profile he saw as she waved probably at one of her friends, smiling broadly. Draco never really paid much attention to the girl, especially to her looks, but now as his eyes roamed over her standing figure in those a little too revealing clothes, he felt a gulp forming in his throat. Her hair was falling on her shoulders, the beam plastered to her face, and she seemed to be a radiating sphere of positivity.

For the last time, she blew her friend a kiss, and then she was looking at him, infinitely shocked at the sight of him behind the window, staring at her. Draco blinked, snatching out of thoughts.

Y/N made her way out, gripping her big handbag and throwing it hastily on the shoulder and a glowing grin waving over her face again. "Nice to see you again," she said. "I thought you would call."

He furrowed his brows, detecting the faint trace of hope in her voice and feeling his heart take up on the speed. "Well... I was just about to. In the room. I bought a phone..." He lifted the sack in his hand. "...and was about to dial your number."

"Really?" she asked, slightly startled and happy at the same time. She brushed some of her hair behind the ear. "Didn't you have the phone?"

"I left it at home." It was the quickest lie he could conceive. He playfully rolled his eyes, indicating the slight amusement at his alleged absentmindedness. "Just heading back from the shop."

She laughed at that. "Right." Suddenly, her cheeks were covered in a light scarlet, and she dropped her gaze at her feet for three seconds, as if she was about to share something very, very secretive with him. Then she was eyeing him again. "Listen... I've just ended a shift. Maybe you would like to go somewhere? I promised I'll show you around the most interesting spots. Are you up to that?"

Draco contemplated, taking in a small breath. Some part of him really lingered to give it a shot and go out with her, seeing where it carries them, as spontaneous as it was. It wasn't a date, and she was practically a stranger, but... what kind of a stranger! A quiet voice in his head told him this was what kept him away from the idea; disclosing his doubts -- her sparkling with joy eyes and the effect she had on him. A mere fact of him pondering the question was pure evidence it mattered to him, and he definitely tried to kick in with a good impression.  

That left him with no more answer than: "Yeah, sure."

For some reason, Y/N let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little, looking as if she was about to hear bad news but heard the contrary instead. "Great!" she exclaimed cheerfully. A little too cheerfully, she realized, as soon as she spoke up because the embarrassment welled up on her face. Yet another blush brushed her cheeks, and she chuckled at herself. "Sorry. Bad habits from the reception."

Now it was his turn to chuckle. He liked it, actually, but obviously wasn't going to say that out loud. "Don't mind," he assured her. "Shall we--"

"Before we do," Y/N cut him in, already guessing the upcoming rest of the sentence. "I suggest you leave that stuff..." She pointed her finger at the bag he was carrying. "...in the room. We might be wandering some hours in the heat. So it might not be the best idea."

Draco nodded, silently agreeing with her pertinent advice. "I'll meet you downstairs in... five minutes, then."

She shifted a little, still grinning like a maniac and watching him with sparkling eyes. "Okay," she said, as Draco was making to walk past her, feeling the strangest hint of excitement creeping in his chest. As he was nearing the doorway, he heard her shouting behind his back, "I'll be waiting here!" And the tiniest of his rare smiles formed on his lips.

XOXOXOXO

"So tell me something about yourself, Draco." Y/N looked at him, a light of interest entering her eyes.

As decided, they had met up a few minutes later in front of the entrance to the hotel and then took on the route. Draco had asked her about any potential propositions of where there should go, to which Y/N only smiled mysteriously and said it was a surprise.

So now they were walking hand-in-hand, taking almost the same pace as they strolled in the rhythm of the roads. The buzz still could be heard, and people prattling loudly, but this time -- as Draco noted -- instead of crowding in the center of the noise, Y/N led him through some stealthy alleys only a real dweller could know about. There were still laughs and talks coming, but much quieter.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, not quite comprehending how he should answer her question. He had been in some relationships, some successful and some not, but no one had really paid much interest in him. Not really him.

"Uh, you know. Where do you hail from, what are your hobbies, why did you come to France? Whatever you want, actually." Y/N chortled, offering him a small smile of encouragement. The sun rays were smoothly emphasizing her beauty; skin glistening under the daily light. Draco couldn't help himself but think of how her hands would feel on his shoulders and--

'Focus Draco,' he scolded himself for drifting far, far away with his imagination.

"Well," he started. "I'm from England, what you can guess by my accent. I play piano, learned Italian and Spanish, and...you know, basic stuff." He omitted the part he was a captain of his Quidditch team at school for almost five years which was his biggest pride. "My mother forced me to come here."

"Oh," Y/N seemed to be a little surprised by his confession because she made a fish-like face. "Didn't you want to come?"

"Not quite," Draco admitted truthfully. Before she was able to ask him for a reason for that, he outstripped her. "Had a tough time lately. My friend...died."

Y/N stared at him, mouth slightly agape, and in an instant, her expression turned from cheerful to a regretful one. "I'm sorry," she said, massive uncomfortableness visible on her face.

He shrugged, making his faultless poker face to the game as if it didn't affect him at all -- blank and uncaring. But it hit him. Always did. He didn't like to talk about his post-war experience; even recalling it in his mind was torture.

'If she only knew,' Draco thought. 'She wouldn't be so eager to get acquainted.'

Before he could pay off with as much interest as she did to him, Y/N was gesturing excitedly to the name on the corner of the building, located right next to the extensive, artificial beach with impeccably clean water. There were quite a few people enjoying themselves and sitting on the warm sand, but not throng as Draco could expect from a place like that. "Here we are!"

Not only the sand, but a minibar was there as well: a small deckhouse in the midway of the shore and pavement; a few wooden stools; and the bartender who was shaking a cocktail mixer in his hands.

Shortly after, however, the man behind the counter noticed them approaching. He shot Draco a brief look, and then his gaze landed straight at Y/N, who also perceived him glancing at her. He seemed to be happy at the sight of her, and his eyes swept momentarily over her figure, perhaps identifying if it really was a person he thought it was, and then he gestured for her to come closer. Y/N seized Draco's forearm, tugging him to come along with her, and Draco, left without any other choices, followed.

Y/N began speaking something French with him, and he heatedly answered her back in a sort of enthusiastic voice. Apparently, they must have known each other because, after seconds, they started joking around, laughing, and patting each others' shoulders like old friends. It took quite a moment, but the bartender eventually focused his attention on Draco, who was standing next to Y/N and was trying to make any sense out of the conservation. The man asked something, curiously arching his brow yet again at Y/N, who flushed suddenly. Clearly flustered with his question, she playfully smacked him at the top of his head and turned to face Draco.

"Sorry for that," she said, putting both of her elbows on the countertop and making a slight pout of guiltiness. "It's just an old friend of mine. I used to come here a lot in the past, so we know each other... pretty well, I guess."

That arose Draco's curiosity, and he didn't miss a chance to ask her. "Don't you come here anymore?"

"No." The readiness of this reply surprised him a little bit. She bit her lip and let her eyes drift at her shoes, which -- Draco noticed -- was her typical reaction when she was nervous. "I... I used this place to meet up with my boyfriend. My father didn't approve of our relationship -- he assumed there was something iffy about him and that he had bad intentions." Chuckling dryly, she tried to cover up her emotions, though the sadness was hitched to her voice. "He was right. He used me and then dumped me, saying it meant nothing."

Although he felt an urge to hug her, he held it back and stared at her, not really knowing what to say. Should he console her by telling her the man was a pig and she clearly deserved better? Or should he keep silent, only proving himself to be a good listener? It was very confusing for him to be around girls who cry and complain and expect reassurance in their words. He witnessed Pansy weeping a lot of times, but she was the one to instruct him what to do by throwing herself at him and lingering in the embrace. But Y/N was new to him, and it was no easy way to find out what she wanted him to say.

"Sucks," he uttered under his breath before the awareness kicked in.  

What the fuck, you dolt?! Is it how you want to comfort her?

Fortunately, Y/N didn't receive his words as critically as he because her eyes lighted up, and she giggled softly. "Yeah... But I learned from that. I try to be warier now."

The bartender poked her suddenly on the shoulder, making some mumbling and incomprehensible sound. Y/N nodded and slightly tilted her head to have a better view of Draco. "Jean asks if you want a drink. He recommends Brave Bull. Brags that he can do the best one in the country."

"Mhm... Let it be it," he agreed, giving up on his usual liquor and dipping into more muggle-like specials. He attempted to force a smile on the lips, trying to give it more of a tone of a request than a demand.

She reciprocated the gesture, and then she turned to her friend, leaning casually against the bar and expertly translating the conversation. He only nodded, smiling, and grabbed the nearest bottle of some booze to pour the contents into the glass along with some other ingredients.

"Here you go," the bartender, Jean, tried out his amateur English, but remnants of French accent could be heard. He laid two glasses of alcohol -- one fiercely brown; the other one, blue with a cocktail umbrella inside -- on the countertop and grinned. Before Draco could take out some cash to pay, Jean's voice echoed again, still with a little stammering accent. "Free!"

Y/N and Draco made their way to a nearby bench, both calmly sipping their drinks and looking at the horizon as the sun set down, disappearing out of your sight. It was strange for Draco how comfortable he felt in her presence; the comfort he hadn't experienced for years in anyone's company. Although he was aware you had met a few days ago, something in your relationship gave him enough space to be himself. And he liked it.

Draco chanced to glance at Y/N, and she was already looking.

"I like coming here," she started hastily, as to conceal she was staring. "It's calming."

As an excuse to tear their eye contact, Draco scanned the beach again, and he could definitely get her point. The place was nothing but charming. "Agree."

"You know... It was my inspirational area when I drew. I first found it when I got into a huge fight with my father. Since then, I have used it as an escape from the outer world. It was a mistake that I shared it with my ex, but... you seem to be a proper person."

Draco didn't miss the compliment, and a barely visible blush danced on his cheeks. He felt his pulse speeds up, heart pounding at the sudden realization of their proximity. "You drew? Is it past tense?"

"Yes." Y/N nodded swiftly, grunting. "I love to capture the moments I find beauty in: people, places, specific objects. I even aspired to go to art studies. But..." She exhaled deeply, preparing herself to continue. "...they are too costly. My father says so... I don't blame him; I know he tries. But I stopped myself from having hopes."

Draco listened, and the pity churned his stomach. Taking a nip of his drink, an idea popped up in his head. "Do you have those drafts?"

"Right now?" Y/N asked, shocked, to which Draco responded only with a short nod.  "Yes, I usually carry them --er-- in my bag. I had to throw them away... but I just couldn't."

"Can I see?"

Surprisingly, for the first time, as Draco saw, reluctance appeared on her face. She deflated, apparently battling with doubts. "Ummm... Yes." And then she slipped her hand into her motley bag, rummaging intensely. After mere seconds, she finally found what she was looking for -- the set of papers bound neatly around by a fine twine and clip, to the additional perseverance.

Y/N passed him, what seemed to be many hours of her solid work, and he examined them closely. What Draco could say is that he wasn't an expert in the field, but he unconditionally believed that those sketches required a lot of talent to draw as precise as they were. He was in awe, really -- the accurate contours given the best preciseness; the attention paid even to the smallest details; gradings made with soft touches of a pencil. The drawings presented a lot: random people walking in a rush, natural landscapes, some sculptures lined up in front of a building, even the least relevant objects like shoes or an apple. That, of course, didn't discourage Draco from watching further -- he flipped the pages, soundlessly, and a little too fascinated to utter a thing.

"And what do you think?" asked Y/N, nervously tapping her fingers on her thigh and (unnecessarily) preparing herself for a flow of criticism. Her gaze darted between Draco's face and the sketches.

"I... think you have a gift," he complimented her, weighing the great truth in his words.

"Really?" Y/N asked him in disbelief, blushing profusely. "Thanks! But --er-- you can take them if you want. It'd be easier for me to know I give them in the good hands than throwing them away."

The 'good hands' comment flattered Draco, and he felt almost honored to accept the offer. "Yes. Thank you." He buried the works deeply in his pocket.

He would definitely make good use of those. He had a plan.

XOXOXO

A/N: Okay, hi everyone! It was supposed to be longer, but I decided to divide it into more chapters with less word count instead. Nothing is happening yet, but you can already feel some tension, right? :D The next chapter is going to be super, super short. So I might be posting it within two days or so??? Idk yet, and it’s not a promise because I have a nice surprise (spoiler! a new one-shot) coming and a few requests to answer, so it might also take a moment. But please, stick with me :D If anyone wants to appear on the tag list, write in comments, DM, or wheresoever!

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Start Line (Part One of Two)

M/F Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.2K

Genre: Boys over Flowers AU! Strangers to enemies to potential lovers!

Summary: Starting a new school is never easy, but the four rich and popular boys who pretend like they’re above the rest of the student population? Well, that makes everything even worse.

A/N: You don’t need to watch the show to understand, but it might be fun! AKA this is a Kdrama recommendation. 

Also, I’m super sorry to the anonymous user who asked for this and probably impatiently waited for me to get a grip!!! 

Tagging @skzwriternet​

For my entire life, I’ve had to work harder than everyone else to secure the things that I wanted the most. 

Which is why nothing could enrage me more than the sight of the four boys sitting on the bleachers together in my new school’s gymnasium.

I had just recently transferred into the school on a swimming scholarship, and a young student assistant offered to give me a tour of the facilities before my first day of scheduled classes. Her name was Suzy, and she had enough intel on the school’s population that even the CIA would be jealous. 

I wasn’t normally one for drama, but Suzy’s warning about the school’s infamously named “F4″ was enough to leave me feeling cautious: “You see those guys over there?” she had asked when we sat down together on the bleachers. “It’s fair to say that they run the school, so most people try to avoid pissing them off.”

The boys in question were all starters for the school’s accolade-heavy basketball team. Apparently, that meant a lot in this affluent and well-endowed community, and I could tell that they considered themselves with the highest regard. Especially the oldest, a handsome blonde whose killer accent was surely the ruin of any one of those poor girls who flocked around them like they were desperate for attention.

“Bang Chan,” Suzy informed me. “He’s the leader, and his family owns an entire line of luxury hotel chains.”

“I guess that means something special?” I remarked, and Suzy gave me a curious look. 

“His family owns the school, but if we’re talking worth, then his parents pretty much own this whole town.”

“So, he takes advantage of that,” I noted, and Suzy nodded her head before indicating to the other three boys.

“They’ve all been friends since they were kids, but everyone knows that Chan and Changbin are super close.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Suzy pointed to the introspective and sullen-looking student who was ignoring all of the other girls with narrowed dark eyes. 

“His parents died when he was young,” she explained. “He lives with his grandfather.”

“Oh?” I wondered, and I looked at Changbin again with a fresh perspective - as someone who had experienced trauma that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Felix and Minho are the real fuckboys,” Suzy continued. “They’re notorious for the weekend rule.”

“The weekend rule?”

“Find a college party, hook-up with a nameless girl, and then leave her before she’s too attached.”

“Fuck boys,” I grumbled in agreement, and Suzy sighed as if she had personal experience...but I seriously doubted that someone of her caliber would stoop so low knowing full well what kind of reputation she was dealing with.

“The entire school is at their beck and call,” she said. “They do whatever they want, and nobody ever questions them.”

“Well, I’m here to graduate and find a good college for swimming,” I said, meeting Chan’s gaze from a distance. “I don’t have time for games.”

The ominous faction leader smirked as he held my stare, eyeing me up and down with a flicker of interest that I chose to ignore when Suzy asked if I wanted to finish the rest of our tour.

Day One

On my first day of classes, Suzy was kind enough to stick close to my side, although I was beginning to see that she wasn’t very popular, and we were mostly ignored by the rest of the populace. Which was just fine with me.

“Check it out!” she exclaimed. “Our schedules are almost identical.”

“I’m glad,” I said, ducking my head to avoid a couple of rough-housing football players who were “playfully” knocking each other into the lockers. “I’m pretty sure you could get lost in here.”

“Well, ideally, most students start here in Elementary school, and they stay all the way through High School,” Suzy said. 

“A pretentious education at its finest,” I remarked, wondering how much money was literally walking by me with every Luis Vuitton bag and Gucci-made uniform that passed in opposing directions. 

“Do you start swimming after school?” Suzy asked, making easy conversation as we entered our first classroom - advanced biology.

“Yeah,” I said, following Suzy to the back of the room. “There’s a tournament this weekend.”

“Already?” Suzy gasped, and she plopped down into one of the desks next to me. “Will you have enough time to practice?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, reaching for a spare notebook as the teacher walked in to begin one of the most intense lectures that I had ever attended.

But the school’s Academic reputation was no joke, and I imagined that they hired the finest teachers that the school’s infinite endowment could afford - a budget that would eclipse the remainder of the public schools in the district. Yet, no one seemed to blink an eye at how obviously unfair that was, as if these well-off students deserved a high-class education simply because their parents made more money than they could spend.

My new socio-economic environment was becoming more and more apparent, and I was suddenly feeling every part of the outcast who wandered into the wrong part of town with good intentions. But a moralistic attitude would get you nowhere in life if everyone else refused to acknowledge the fact. 

I learned quickly that the students at this school were only looking after themselves, but the lesson was hard to accept. Which might explain my uncharacteristic heroism when it came to defending Suzy later on that afternoon when she agreed to give me a ride home after swim practice.

I was outside, sending a message to my mom, when I noticed a black SUV careening backwards at a speed that was far too fast. Meanwhile, Suzy had settled down inside the car to start the ignition, messing with the dials on the radio, when a powerful jolt sent her jerking forward. “What the hell?” Suzy shrieked, turning around in her seat only to startle with that “deer in the headlights” look of absolute horror.

“Shit!!” she cursed, and I watched her get out of the car before taking a deep breath and joining her on the opposite side of her smashed trunk where a huge crowd of students had started to gather around us.

They were talking rapidly amongst themselves, and I figured out why they were so interested the minute Bang Chan and one of his friend - Felix, perhaps? - walked up to Suzy with a bored expression. “You do this often?” were the first words I ever heard from Chan. “I can’t believe you got in my way.”

Suzy immediately bowed her head - submitting to the older Senior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stand to watch her expose her most vulnerable position. 

“Hey!” I shouted, walking around Suzy’s crumbled form to stand toe-to-toe with the infamous Bang Chan.

“You must be the new girl,” Chan remarked, eyeing me up and down with vague interest. “I kinda expected something more when I saw you the other day...”

I seethed when his gaze fell lower, as if pointing out something that only hormonal teenage boys would care about. “I’m not here to impress you,” I replied, and he arched one brow.

“I don’t need to be impressed,” Chan said. “But your little friend disrespected me, and I think she should apologize.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t looking!” I snapped. “Anyone with eyes could see that you were too busy on your phone to pay attention!”

There was a collective conversation from the crowd, and Chan studied the growing conglomeration of students surrounding our confrontation. “Do you have proof of that? Or, is it your word against mine?”

“Someone with any sense of dignity wouldn’t act this way,” I countered, and Chan immediately started laughing.

“Oh? Isn’t that cute,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You have a lot to learn around here.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is to stay away from you,” I said, and Chan rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

And the torment only continued.

“Hey!” I snapped when he knocked his shoulder against mine, coming to stand in front of Suzy again with disdain.

“Pay for the damages,” he ordered. “And then apologize to me.”

“Chan-” Suzy started, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around. 

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, and our noses almost brushed from the minimal distance I allowed between us. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else about your idea of honor or whatever,” Chan sneered, but he paused when I held up my phone, pressing the play button on the video which provided convincing evidence of the incident.

“What about this?” I asked him, and I could practically see him come undone.

“Give that to me!” he demanded, but I took several steps away from him, returning my cellphone to my pocket. 

“But I’m sure the police would be interested in seeing it.”

Chan’s eyes perceptibly widened, and I felt a surge of triumph in knowing that I had the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I taunted him, briefly glancing over my shoulder at his friend who had started snickering - like he was enjoying our fight. 

“Fine,” Chan huffed. “What do you want?”

“You’ll pay for the damages to my friend’s car,” I said. “And...”

“And?” Chan snapped, clearly impatient.

“You can apologize to her instead,” I finished, and there were several consecutive gasps from the student population.

“Is he gonna do it?”

“There’s no way Chan will give in!!”

“Someone film this!”

My smile continued to widen at the jeers of my classmates, and Chan was finally at his wits end, spinning around on his heels to growl an imperceptible attempt at an apology to Suzy who could only look at him in awe. “We’re done here,” Chan said, and I shrugged nonchalantly, watching him storm away with his friend in tow behind him.

I sighed once they were both gone, feeling a sense of profound justice after proving that even the great Bang Chan could be defeated, but then Suzy appeared in front of me with a grave look in her eyes that told me this whole ordeal was far from over. “Y/N,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

Day Three

The next morning, I walked to my locker feeling every gaze turned in my direction. I frowned at each of them, wondering if this was the aftermath from the incident with Chan and his stupid friends. Yet, when I finally paused in front of my locker, an uncomfortable sensation of dread sent me into a cold sweat when I saw what was taped to the front of the door. 

It was a red card with a black skull at the top and the infamous “F4″ written across the bottom.

“She got the card!” someone announced from off to the side, and it didn’t take long for other students to rush in my direction.

“The card?” I whispered to myself, remembering Suzy’s previous warnings concerning the exploits of the F4 boys. It wasn’t an accident that I had received this ominous warning, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Quickly, I darted through one of the exits leading outside, placing me somewhere on a small veranda where I leaned against the bannister overlooking the school’s athletic fields. “What the hell is wrong with this place!” I screeched, projecting my voice across the fields, and I didn’t expect anyone to hear me...

“Why the hell are you screaming?” 

I paused at the sudden question, widening my eyes when I realized it was closer than I expected. “You come up here often?”

I staggered backward at the interjection, spinning around to locate the voice that had uttered the simple question. “Hello?”

There was a sigh, and then a familiar sweep of brown hair appeared from around the corner. “This is my spot, you know?”

“No,” I said, cringing at my tone. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

The recipient in question was none other than Changbin, one of the four members of the school’s notorious F4. His dark black hair was wind-swept across his forehead, falling in thin strands over attentive brown eyes while he leaned against the wall of the small patio sectioned off from the rest of the veranda. “Lesson learned,” Changbin continued, swaggering up the stairs to stand next to me, looking out over the playing fields. “I guess I can’t come here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I found myself asking without really thinking about what it might look like to show that I was concerned. After all, he was a member of the same F4 that had just terrorized me with their stupid calling card.

“You’re here,” Changbin replied as if the answer might suffice. “I have a feeling this place will be too loud.”

He sighed then before starting for the exit. “W-wait!” I stuttered, unable to put together a logical sentence before Changbin was already walking back inside.

But Changbin’s unexpected appearance proved to be the least of my problems.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I faced an onslaught of humiliation courtesy of my classmates. Everything from jeers between classes, to more insulting pranks like decorating the desk on my homeroom classroom with vulgar language and pictures.

Yet, worst of all was coming face to face with Bang Chan himself who smiled some kind of sickening smirk at me before quietly asking if I had had enough of the torment. “This is nothing,” I growled at him.

“Oh? Well, it’s only gonna get worse,” Chan promised, and he left without another word, leaving me to stew over a powerful combination of anxiety and frustration.

However, Chan’s idea of worse was, indeed, inexcusable. And I nearly screamed when I went to swim that afternoon, only to discover the pool littered with trash. But there was nobody around to help, and I spent the entirety of my scheduled practice time cleaning up with water, wrinkling my nose at a few questionable banana peels.

“I guess he went through with it,” a familiar voice interrupted my trash session, beaming through the haze of disgust lingering with every brush of my fingers across sodden newspaper or moldy plates.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded of Felix and Minho - the infamous duo who were practically glued to Chan’s side.

“We just wanted to meet you,” Felix said, and I watched through narrowed eyes as they brought over chairs from the side to sit down at the poolside.

I frowned. Couldn’t they help? “Why are you interested?” I asked instead, bringing another load of trash to the edge.

“Well, it’s been awhile since anyone stood up to Chan,” Minho explained, and there was a playfulness in his gaze that left me feeling uneasy in concern to their real intentions.

“Doing what’s right shouldn’t make me a martyr,” I said.

“But it does,” Felix replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s gonna keep up the torture, you know,” he continued, waving his hand around to indicate the trash still floating on top of the chlorine-caked water. 

“Forever?” I grimaced, hating that the word had slipped free without really thinking about what it would mean to admit such things to Chan’s friends.

Minho smiled, looking up at something over my shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you here, Changbin?”

I turned around as if it was instinctual, watching the same person from earlier on the veranda walk inside from the locker room. He seemed even more out of place than Minho and Felix, studying the pollution of trash swimming with me. “She’s interesting,” Changbin said, and I was surprised when my stomach did a few somersaults at his confession.

“I agree,” Felix inserted, leaning back against his elbows with his shirt sleeves rucked up high on his forearms. “It’s been a while since Chan has been this invested in something.”

“It would be nice if he could stop,” I grumbled, and I met Changbin’s sincere gaze as he knelt down next to the poolside.

“He’ll give up when he thinks you won’t back down,” Changbin finally decided, and I watched as he started gathering the trash floating in his direction.

Day Seven

In hindsight, my imagination ran wild with scenarios that were more insane with each progressive image that crossed through my head. 

But what could you expect from someone who had just figured out that she was being followed by three burly men wearing suits like they were the Men in Black. 

Each time I started to walk faster, they would also do the same. Until it got to the point where I was zigzagging around corners, doing my best to dodge out of their sight, only to find myself once again confronted with the strange men who had no intentions of leaving me alone.

Eventually, I paused on the sidewalk outside of the school’s entrance. I was running late that morning, which meant nobody else was around to witness this madness. But I was a strong, independent woman with a a no-nonsense attitude that compelled me to project my voice across the well-polished front lawn. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, holding up my hands when they grew closer. “What seems to be the problem?”

“We have orders to bring you to our boss,” they said, which only confused me even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

“Our apologies, miss,” the first man continued. “We were informed that you might try to resist.”

“Like I’m just gonna skip school and leave with a couple of strangers who have no conception of personal space,’ I glowered, but when I tried to spin around on my heel, I found myself colliding with an enormous chest, and I sighed, realizing that they had clearly been distracting me long enough for the third guard to sneak up behind me. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes when he grabbed my arm, leading me to the sleek black car running at the front of the school.

From there, my day only continued to grow even weirder, especially when I found myself walking up the steps of a gigantic mansion that looked like it could grace the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

“Where am I?” I tried to ask, but the guards ignored my question, bringing me inside the house where I felt a twinge of misplaced guilt for treading my dirty sneakers across the pristine marble floors that practically shined with my reflection looking back at me.

“Greetings, miss,” a friendly tone greeted me, and I studied the older gentleman who dismissed the guards with a wave of his wrinkled hand. He was dressed impeccably in a suit with a long coat-tail, balding gray hair styled atop his head in a delicate swoop.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, but the butler was silent as he indicated for me to follow him. Down the crowded corridors, decorated with large, extravagant paintings, and down the granite staircase descending to the floor in a circular pattern.

Down a stretch of never-ending hallway that led to a bedroom at the end where two younger women - identically matched in uniform - greeted me by name before ushering me inside.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?” I asked the butler who followed us inside, giving out instructions as I was forced onto a stool in front of a vanity mirror, wincing when the woman immediately started to yank a brush through my long hair.

“This might take a while,” she said, and I frowned at her tone, coughing when a fresh puff of powder was streaked across my face - compliments of another girl who had a palate of make-up balanced on her hand like it was a paint tray and my skin was her canvas.

“I’d like to know something,” I insisted, but I was met with silence, crossing my arms across my chest as I resigned myself to the unexpected makeover since it was a thousand times better than my earlier scenarios where I envisioned myself dying from a James Bond-esque death.

It was only a half-hour later when the women declared themselves finished, standing back to admire their work while I had a staring contest with the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Because it was hard to believe that it was me with neat ringlets decorating my scalp, and sticky globs of mascara and foundation hiding the blemishes on my face.

I looked amazing, but it wasn’t really me. Still, I wasn’t given much time to study my new appearance, and I hesitated when the butler extended a black dress in my direction. “Our boss wants you to wear this,” he informed me, and I hesitantly accepted the expensive fabric.

“Who’s your boss?” I tried once more, but the butler simply smiled at me before waiting outside for me to get dressed, and I squeezed myself into the exquisite gown that swept the floor at my feet, hugging my curves and accentuating my figure in ways that my sweatpants and t-shirts couldn't.

When I finally walked back out, the butler smiled at me in approval before waving his hand in a grand fashion. “He’s waiting in the living room.”

I swallowed hard, following him once again through the maze of the house while wondering who I might be meeting. A rich donor? A potential Sugar Daddy?

They were all grand ideas that proved to be far better than the truth, and I could only gape in surprise when I was led into the living room, only to meet Chan’s eager gaze from across the expanse of white, designer-brand carpet.

“You!” I hissed in an accusing tone, watching the butler leave from the corner of my eye.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Chan asked, eliminating the distance between us with a few calculating steps. “They were right about the dress. You actually clean-up nice, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the backwards compliment. “Are you serious?” I nearly growled. “You kidnapped me for this?!”

Chan looked at me in disbelief, and I wondered if it was the first time that he had ever been rendered silent. “Do I not get a thank you?”

“A thank you?” I repeated. Incredulous.

“I brought you here,” Chan said, but he was clearly hesitating. “I thought you might like the attention? The clothes aren’t to your taste?”

“Shit, you’re dense,” I muttered. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“It’s obvious,” Chan said. “Talking down to me the other day, pretending like you aren’t affected by the F4 card...you just wanted my attention. And guess what, Y/N? I’m willing to give it to you.”

I blinked once, trying to understand his ridiculous train of bullshit. “What?!”

“You can be my girlfriend,” Chan said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a pretty big deal, but I’m sure you know that. I’ll even let you hold my hand between classes, and maybe come to your swim meets or whatever.”

“Chan...” I started, but then I broke off with a sigh because nothing I could think of seemed like an appropriate response. “I don’t think there’s even a remote chance that I would want to be your girlfriend.” I shivered, releasing a groan just saying the title. “Whatever you think is happening…it’s totally warped inside that screwed up head of yours.”

“Y/N-”

“Please,” I interrupted him, holding up one hand. “I’ve had enough, okay? I just want to go home.”

“But...” Chan tried to protested, stuttering around his words when I yanked off the expensive heels, chucking them off to the side. “How could you not want this?” he asked. “The outfit itself cost over $1,000 dollars.”

“$1,000 dollars?” I repeated, widening my eyes when I thought about how many hours my parents would need to put in at our local laundromat business to even make close to the amount he just threw away like it was nothing. “Chan, I might not live in the same world as you, but where I come from? You don’t make friends with money...you make them from the heart.”

“Impossible!” Chan protested, even as I turned my back to him. “Money can buy anything!”

“Is that why I’m leaving?” I returned, reaching down to hold my dress in place while feeling a small sense of satisfaction at having left Chan completely speechless.

Of course, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tossed the shoes because the cement was hot against the soles of my feet, and I had attracted more than one curious look as I stormed down the street in search of the main road to take me back home.

“Stupid moron,” I huffed, practically jogging down the road with bare feet and my dress hiked up my legs to prevent me from tripping over the train. It was probably a sight for sore eyes when it came to the rich socialites who populated the neighborhood.

But like the sun’s rays penetrating the clouds on a rainy afternoon, I heard the sound of a motorcycle growing closer from behind me. Until the bike was right next to me, and the driver removed his helmet to expose a familiar bush of brown locks.

“Do you need a ride home?” Changbin asked, and I swallowed hard as I met his steady gaze. It was a simple question, but the fact that he didn’t even question me about why I was here? Nor could I detect any judgement in those impenetrable brown eyes that held all the allure, sending my heart knocking against my breastbone once again.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the extra helmet from him. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I know how that feels,” Changbin said, and I was surprised by his easy conversation, planting myself on the seat behind him.

“Thank you for this,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and shivering at the thick smell of his cologne.

“It seems like you might be worth the effort,” Changbin remarked before kicking his bike into gear, and my heart did something strange that might be considered very dangerous when it involved the F4.

But I couldn’t help it, and I had never been more at ease this close to someone else.

Day Ten

Despite my adamant protests, the school insisted that I needed to take a physical education course, which meant that I was forced to pretend to enjoy dodgeball with the rest of my classmates. Hiding out at the back while most of the other girls did all the hard work. But I was only meant for one sport, and dodgeball was as far from swimming as one could get.

It helped that Suzy had gym at the same time, and we talked between games, with Suzy leading most of the conversation.as she offered introductions for most of our other classmates. “Mandy,” Suzy grumbled at one point, indicating to a tall blonde with long legs and a permanent sneer. “She thinks that she somehow has a chance to be with Chan, even though he’s kinda made it obvious that he doesn’t think anyone here is good enough.”

“Really?” I snorted, seeking Chan out from the corner of my eye, playing basketball on the courts with the rest of the F4. 

“It’s a running thing here,” Suzy continued. “But most people don’t even try since they don’t want to get on Mandy’s bad side.”

“Whatever,” I replied, averting my gaze when Chan’s eyes met mine. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Most of our classmates would disagree,” Suzy said with a shrug, nudging her shoulder against mine when one of the instructors ordered us to begin the second round.

As usual, I lingered at the the sidelines away from my team, making a half-hearted attempt to play along, especially since I seemed to be a recurring target, using other bodies to protect myself from stray plastic dodgeballs. “What the hell,” I grumbled, wondering if that stupid F4 card was to blame for my classmate’s sudden desire to single me out from everyone else.

I crossed my arms at the thought, finding myself once again looking back over at Chan...Did he think it was funny to make me a target of ridicule? Well, at least Changbin was being surprisingly nice, and just the mere mention of the older boy was enough to do crazy things to my poor heart.

But lost in my daydreams, I failed to notice that Mandy and one of her friends had stalked to the edge of the court, rearing back to throw their dodgeballs at me while I was distracted. “Y/N!” I heard Suzy’s voice scream from across the field, and I looked away from Chan only to find myself frozen in place while a dodgeball flew in my direction.

The sickening CRACK! of the stupid thing hitting my nose was audible, and I immediately tasted blood on my upper lip. “Go clean yourself up, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the instructors said, but I was furious that she was treating the situation so nonchalantly.

It was all Chan’s fault. Even if he hadn't thrown the ball, he empowered his classmates to belittle me at every opportunity, and I was tired of being the school’s metaphorical punching bag. And I hated the tears threatening to fall, refusing to show any signs of weakness as I stormed past Suzy for the girl’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” I cursed as I leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on my face as I looked at my bloody and mangled reflection in the mirror. 

This was the worst incident so far, and I hated that the situation had escalated to something physical, gripping the edge of the sink tightly as I closed my eyes to regain control over my breathing.

“Here,” a voice whispered from behind me, and I turned around with a glare already contorting my expression when I was forced to face Bang Chan once again.

“It’s your fault,” I replied, snatching the paper towel from him as I dabbed at my nose. “What the hell are you doing in the girl’s bathroom?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, but I refused to believe it was sincere, turning back around to check the damage of my nose in the mirror. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You can’t be sorry after the fact,” I snapped. “You had every chance to make things right and leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, I can’t do that now...” Chan trailed off, and it was surprising to see him suddenly look so unsure of himself. “I'm just trying to help...”

“And who asked you to do that?” I returned, looking at him from the corner of my eye. “Even if you were the last person on Earth, I would never ask for your help!”

My exclamation was punctuated by a rather harsh sound after I shoved the paper towels into the trashcan, preparing to leave the bathroom before Chan grabbed my arm to turn me back around. “What do you dislike so much?” Chan whined. “I don’t understand...I’m rich, handsome, smart...”

“All of it!” I interrupted with a harsh tone, and Chan immediately stumbled back against the sink. “You must not realize, but do you think those things matter to me? Because I can’t even consider them when your entire personality is unattractive! Your arrogant attitude, your stupid face, and that ridiculous curly hair!!”

“Are you insane?” Chan asked, and his bewildered expression would be funny under any other circumstances.

“I’m not done yet,” I sharply interjected. “It annoys me that you guys are allowed to do whatever you want at this school, and the whole red card deal? Where you give everyone a free pass to bully other students? Like it’s nothing? That’s the absolute worst thing about you!!”

“Y/N...”

“Do I need to repeat it?” I interrupted once more. “I hate everything about you!”

The harsh exclamation was met by silence as Chan continued to stare at me, and I decided to leave him alone in silence to think about everything I had said, rejoining my classmates with a sense of relief at having stood up to someone who considered himself as better than everyone else.

Day Fourteen

“You should come with me,” Suzy remarked one afternoon, sitting next to the poolside with me as I swam my regular laps. 

“I’d rather not,” I said, pausing at the edge of the pool to consider her request - a night under the stars, as the school’s dance team had proclaimed it, and it was one of the biggest school events of the year.

“Why?” Suzy whined. “The F4 revoked your red card, and you can meet some more people...maybe even score some connections.”

“Right,” I scoffed, thinking the idea absurd, but I guess it wouldn’t seem so outrageous to the ones who had been dealing with these politics for their entire lives. “I’m not really that outgoing.”

“It’s okay,” Suzy reassured me, and I could tell that she really wanted me to come with her, which is probably why I felt compelled to agree. But her smile and cheering was worth it, especially considering just how good of a friend Suzy had proven to be during the past two weeks.

And that’s how I found myself walking up to the school’s gymnasium that weekend, wearing an uncomfortable black dress that Suzy had agreed to lend me for the occasion. “You look hot, Y/N,” Suzy said, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my reflection reminded me too much of the time when Chan had brought me to his house to play dress-up.

“I can hear the music all the way out here,” I said, following Suzy up the gym steps.

“Yeah, this event isn’t regulated by the teachers, so it’s basically a free-for-all,” Suzy explained, and I desperately wished that I could find the appeal in that statement, especially once we entered the building, washing us in neon colors of purple and pink. “Let’s dance!” Suzy immediately cried, pulling me to the dance floor despite my protests.

Thankfully, I only had to awkwardly navigate the party scene for one song before Suzy became preoccupied with a very cute Senior boy from our homeroom. I was able to sneak away to the punch bowl, ladling some of the red liquid into my cup before bringing it to my lips. “Hmm,” I wondered, eyeing the drink because it tasted so familiar...”Oh well,” I said, shrugging as I proceeded to drain several more cups before sinking down against the wall, never noticing that a pair of eyes had been watching my every movement until a pair of Versace-toed boots stopped in front of me. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan remarked, and I was shocked that he had the guts to talk to me after honoring my request to be ignored for the past several days.

“What do you want?” I grumbled, reluctantly taking his outstretched hand to help me stand again because my vision was unusually blurry and my stomach was churning.

“The punch was spiked,” Chan said, chucking at my disheveled state.

“Spiked?” I repeated, finding myself totally incoherent as I leaned most of my weight against him. “When did that happen?”

“The Seniors do it as a prank,” Chan said, and his gaze seemed to soften as he held me close. “Do you want to sit down?”

“That would be nice,” I slurred, allowing him to guide me over to the bleachers where I dropped down with a thud!

“Damn, you’re pretty wasted,” Chan said, looking me over with an uncharacteristic amount of concern.

“I didn’t know...” I trailed off, pointing back at the punch bowl. “It tasted so good.”

“I bet it did,” Chan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat. “I saw that you came with your friend, but maybe you might want some company?”

“Sure!” I said, patting the space next to me. “You’ve caught me in a good mood.”

Chan grinned - a genuine smile that I could hardly recognize - as he sat down with a sigh. “This doesn’t really seem like your type of scene.”

“Not really,” I agreed, narrowing my eyes when the room started swaying. “But you’re not my usual type of person.”

“Right,” Chan agreed, chuckling awkwardly as he messed up his hair - straightened instead of curly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else?”

I frowned because, even though I might’ve been a little more than tipsy, I still remembered that I didn’t like Chan, and there was no reason for me to go anywhere with him. “Are you intentionally ignoring everything I said from the other day?”

“No,” Chan murmured. “But I was hoping that I could give you space...and maybe a chance to prove myself?”

“Really?” I snorted. “How much have you changed since the last time we talked?”

“Probably not much,” Chan acknowledged, much to my surprise. “But after everything you said, maybe I’d like to? And I feel like you’re the only person who can be honest enough to help me.”

“Oh,” I replied, slightly disconcerted by Chan’s abrupt change in attitude. “Still, after everything you did...”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” Chan quickly agreed. “But I think you’re one of the rare kinds of people who believes in second chances.”

I exhaled loudly at his words, and in part to keep myself from throwing up after all the alcohol I ingested. “Where would we go?”

“What about a date at the diner downtown?” Chan asked, swallowing hard. “With me?”

“Let’s not call it a date,” I grimaced, and Chan agreed, even though it seemed to be a reluctant remission on his part. “But, yeah, that actually might be nice.”

“Perfect!” Chan said, and he was already on his feet with an energy that was impossible to ignore. “I’ll have Changbin tell your friend. Wait right here, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching my stomach as I watched Chan run off into the crowd. “Jeez, Y/N,” I groaned. “What are you doing with this guy?”

It might be one of the worst decisions of my life, but something he said struck a nerve deep inside of me. He might be unbearable, but he was right about one thing: people could always change, and I was the type of person who allowed second chances...just as long as someone was willing to earn it and prove themselves.

“Are we taking your car?” I asked, staggering against Chan’s hold as he brought us outside the gym.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can take my car, and you can sober up on the way.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, regretting the decision to drink so much of that stupid punch with every swaying step towards Chan’s expensive sports car.

He had the decency to open the door for me, and I fell inside with a grunt, waiting for him to turn over the ignition before he started fussing over me. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Are you hot or cold? Should I turn on the music?”

“Don’t ask questions,” I gritted out - a response to everything while I leaned my head against the window.

“Got it,” Chan said, and he dutifully followed through on his promise, never speaking again until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner he had advertised earlier. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, an honest response. Because the drive had taken close to twenty minutes, and I had found a water bottle in the floor, downing the contents to settle my stomach and the wave of nausea that only alcohol could bring. “We can go inside,” I said, rolling my eyes when he made a show of coming around to help me out of the car, grabbing my arm despite my protests. “What is this place?” I asked when we walked inside, choosing an empty table near the back.

“My friends come here a lot,” Chan replied. “It’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” I laughed. “There’s no way it’s quiet if the whole school comes here.”

“They don’t,” Chan said, surprising me yet again. “Nobody knows we come here.”

He gave me a meaningful look, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was risking a lot by entrusting me with their secret. “Got it,” I said, miming myself closing a zipper across my lips (perhaps that was the drunkenness affecting my judgement).

But Chan still laughed, and then he went to the counter to order, leaving me to contemplate what the actual hell I was doing with the school’s literal celebrity who treated most people like shit, including me for a short while at the very beginning.

At this point, I really couldn’t blame the alcohol. So, what was wrong with me? Why was I doing this?

“Here,” Chan said, dropping a mug of something sweet down in front of me, effectively interrupting my internal conflict.

“Hot chocolate?” I asked, and I was definitely caught off-guard as Chan shrugged and sat down in front of me.

“I thought you might prefer this,” he admitted.

“Oh...” I started, searching for a good response. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Chan said, and he smiled as he watched me taste the foam resting on top. “Is it good?”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, and Chan had the appearance of someone who had just landed an acceptance to their dream college.

“You’re different from the others,” Chan said, switching the topic. “I like that about you, and it makes me regret everything I’ve done even more.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “That red card shit needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Chan said, bringing his mug even closer. “My friends have wanted to stop for a while...”

“They’re way smarter than you,” I said, tilting my head to the side as if it might give me a different vantage point of the confusing boy sitting in front of me. “Did you really want to come here with me?”

Chan nodded, eyes gleaming. “You’re interesting,” he decided, mirroring the exact same thing that Changbin had said to me a while back. “I think I like you a lot, which is why what you said to me at my house and in the bathroom really made me reconsider a lot of things.”

“Oh?” I questioned him, amused by his reasoning, and possibly even endeared by his regretful expression. “I might learn to like you...” I trailed off, laughing at his puppy-dog eyes as he looked at me with obvious desperation. “If you learn to behave.”

“Is that so?” Chan remarked, and his smile was perfectly sincere. “Well, I think you’re the best person to teach me.”

And despite our complicated history together - unwinding after such a brief amount of time in one another’s company - I was more than willing to try for the very strange boy who was starting to show me the intricate layers underneath all the wealth and arrogance - a mere façade for something better, the potential for good if a brave enough person was careful enough to find it.

End of Part One

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

A Woman Like You pt. 3 (Diane Sherman x socialphobist!reader)

as i promised, there is chapter 3 whoohoo

request: need another part to a woman like you 😌

warnings: social anxiety i guess

here is pt two: https://littlejeaniehugsbumblebees.tumblr.com/post/640358893165363200/a-woman-like-you-pt-2-diane-sherman-x-reader

google translate- :’)

To say Y / N hadn't socialized in college would have been a lie. There were 1 or 2 students with whom she got along well.

One of them was Wylan Montgomery.

Wylan was a tall, slender man with sandy hair. Y / N couldn't tell if she thought he was pretty with his pale skin, but what she did know was, that she didn't find him attractive. But she liked him. Wylan didn't speak much as he was also more of an introvert and lived in his own world. Often Y / N and Wylan studied together in the library, checked each other's homework or discussed books. Nothing special, actually, but there was one thing that Y / N really appreciated about her friendship with Wylan: the weekly chess game.

Y / N loved chess. It was a strategy game, that wasn't about communication with the opponent at all. A game, that could be played in complete silence and the only important thing was concentration.

Wylan and Y / N had a tradition of meeting in the library every Thursday afternoon to play chess together.

Their game could take hours and it was not uncommon for Wylan and Y / N to be the last in the library by the end of the evening.

And when Y / N and Wylan were sitting in the library in the back corner by the window on this rainy Thursday and had been playing for an hour, Y / N couldn't have imagined how this afternoon would end.

"Damn it," Wylan muttered quietly as he stared strained at the chess board. Y / N, who was just as focused as he was studying the board, lifted her eyes to meet the blond boy in the face.

His green eyes literally jumped over the board as he nervously chewed his lower lip, as he always did when they were playing.

It was Wylan's turn and he'd been sitting there for 3 minutes without having done anything. Just like Y / N, he considered every step he took, not just in chess, but in real life as well.

Y / N looked back at the chess board and let her eyes wander over the black wooden figures she was playing with today.

She heard Wylan exhale loudly as he reached out to put his white pawn on E4.

How predictable, thought Y / N. She leaned forward to take the time to consider her next move. Wylan was a good player, but transparent as he often used the same strategy and the game was also relatively early on.

"Mister Montgomery?" Suddenly called a female voice that made Y / N flinch. Both students immediately raised their heads to look at the woman, who owned the voice. Professor Sherman came running out from behind a bookcase.

"I've been looking for you for 20 minutes .. Your roommate told me you were probably here," she explained with relief when she recognized Wylan at the table.

"Professor Wright sent me, he's been waiting for you for an hour."

Y/N looked confused away from Diane, who was ignoring her, to look at Wylan's face. The blond man seemed just as confused as she was when suddenly his eyes widened and he let out a quiet "fuck".

"Do you know where he's waiting for me?" He asked, turning to Diane, who shrugged.

"His office, I assume."

"Uhm okay, thank you".

Wylan stood up and gave Y / N a pleading look.

"M'sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay," Y / N replied and looked back at the chess board.

"I also have a lot to do."

He smiled wryly before turning and jogging out of the library.

Y / N looked back at the chessboard and started packing up while trying to ignore the fact, that Diane was still relatively lost across the table.

"Do you really still have a lot to do?", The professor suddenly asked and Y / N immediately raised her head to look at her confused.

"Excuse me?"

"If you want, I'll play with you-"

With narrowed eyes, Y / N looked into Diane's face and watched the professor chew on her lower lip.

"Is that pity?" Y / N asked skeptically and Diane quickly shook her head.

"Oh no," she said. "It was just an idea."

"Well, I've already started cleaning up, I-"

"So far you have only taken the rook off the field, it was on B5", Diane interrupted her and looked at the rook in Y / N's hand.

"But the game has already started", Y / N tried to get rid of her professor. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't because Y / N didn't want to, on the contrary, she would have loved to play with her. But Diane was a stranger and to Y / N all strangers were her enemies.

In her mind she ran through all sorts of scenarios of how it would all work out.

Y / N's hand would probably tremble so much when placing the figures that she would knock over the other ones.

Maybe she was sneezing or something like that, maybe she would accidentally touch Diane. Maybe Diane was the kind of person, who talked a lot while playing and stared hard at Y / N while concentrating. On the other hand, chess was a game, that required a lot of concentration and nobody could blame Y / N if she kept silent while playing. And even though Y / N was afraid, that she might breathe too loudly, she knew, that she would regret it, if she would reject Diane.

"All right," Y / N finally uttered with a sigh and immediately regretted it. Damn it.

Diane smiled at Y / N's words before taking a seat across from Y / N at the table.

"Great," she muttered and Y / N put the black rook back on B5.

And then they started playing.

The next 3 hours were filled with a pleasant silence and concentration, for which Y / N was very grateful. So Diane wasn't the kind of person who talked a lot while playing. And that nobody spoke was not at all uncomfortable. Even so, Y / N tried to imagine that Wylan was sitting across from her and not her literature professor. But it was impossible; Diane's fingers were much slimmer than Wylan's. Then there was the cinnamon scent of her perfume, which replaced Wylan's aftershave, and at last there were the reddish-brown hair tips that slid onto the chessboard every time the professor leaned over to grab the figures.

Y / N didn't even look at the clock during the entire time and didn't even notice that the whole game lasted 3 hours. She hadn't noticed either, that it was already dark when she finally put Diane in check and she muttered:

"check

For the first time since they started playing, Y / N carefully raised her eyes to Diane to take in the expression on her face.

The woman frowned at the game board while her chin rested on her palm. Y / N noticed, that she was wearing the dark blue cardigan, as she often did in her seminars, and for whatever reason, Y / N liked this cardigan.

"Shit," said Diane finally, leaning back in her chair.

"You actually won."

"Well then, checkmate", Y / N muttered before reaching for her bishop to knock over the white king.

Meanwhile, the professor's brown eyes were still running over the field to analyze the entire game again.

"It's crazy," she finally said, leaning forward again to lean over the board.

"I've never met someone, who plays as subtly as you do."

Y / N lifted her gaze from the king to look straight into Diane's eyes.

Bad idea. Eye contact was disgusting and Y / N immediately blushed before glancing quickly at the lamp on the table.

"To be honest, I assumed you would win," she explained, staring into the bright light. Diane must have turned it on when it got dark.

"Why did you think, I would win?" Diane asked confused and Y / N could feel her gaze on her.

"I don't know," she replied and shrugged her shoulders.

"I played black-"

"Oh come on, you can't be serious"

"It was just a premonition, one of us had to win anyway and I just assumed you would be the one," Y / N tried desperately to justify herself before looking back at Diane, who was slightly confused and shook his head with a smile.

"You're weird," she muttered and Y / N felt a small sting in her chest. She hated it, when she was called that. As a social phobist, her greatest fear was, that people would perceive her that way. All she wanted was to be seen as normal, not as a weirdo.

For a few seconds she involuntarily lost herself in Diane's brown eyes and in these seconds her head was completely free of all anxious thoughts. To be honest, there was nothing left in her head. She could just stare. Diane finally cleared her throat and Y / N immediately averted her gaze in shame.

"I should go now, it's late and I have to go home," explained Diane as she got up.

"I have to go too," said Y / N quickly as she started clearing the board.

"Uhm, thank you, Miss Y / L / N," Diane said sincerely and smiled gently.

"It was great fun."

Y / N only nodded briefly and continued to collect the pieces from the board while listening to Professor Sherman's footsteps moving further and further away.

---------------------------------

It's like that with social phobia (at least for me): When I meet people and I'm very nervous in this situation qnd the meeting can be as relaxed as possible, but in the end only the things that stick in my memories is that, that were not perfect . Please don't get me wrong, shortly afterwards I am always very relieved, because all of my bad fears (like that I'm breathing too loudly) have not come true, but the more I think about this situation and how well everything went, I notice that it was still not perfect. There are little things that bother me: a confused look, a long moment of silence, the fear, of having laughed too loudly or the fact, that I accidentally touched the person I met while running.

I just want to do everything right and in no case overreact or do too much. And these little things that I mentioned above make me feel, that what I've done was too much and I decide to do less next time. Saying less, laughing less, just less.

And in the end, I really only have the things, that bothered me and after a while that's all I can remember.

That's why Y / N could only remember the moment, when Diane called her "weird". It was actually nothing, but Y / N feared nothing more, than the judgment of strangers and Diane's testimony hadn't really helped her, on the contrary, Y/N hated her literature professor now and had decided to skip the next seminar with the excuse, that she was sick.

And somehow she felt sick too. Y / N was of the opinion, that no one could understand her better than herself. She knew exactly what she had experienced. She knew, why she was the way she was and just the thought of talking to someone about it, made her tired. And when Diane called her weird, she realized again, that people can't help but judge. Advantages and clichés change our view of things so much and Y / N knows that, because she was not better.

To make matters worse, she had had to stare into her professor's eyes for a few seconds too long. Diane had to hate her, even though she'd said thank you for the game at the end. But as I said, over time that faded and the only thing that Y / N left of the afternoon was the moment, Diane called her weird and the brown color of her eyes, in which Y / N had lost itself a little too long.

Those were the things that were "too much".  And at night Y / N lay with her head buried in the pillow, repeating this mantra in her head, which she always said to herself, when she had spent the day outside of her comfort zone:

"I hate people. I hate people. I hate people."

Sometimes Y / N's comfort zone was only the radius of her bed and then she hated getting up early. There was also her annoying roommate Andrea, who often dragged strangers into her room during the day and Y / N hated people. However, Andrea was also one of those people, who preferred to spend their nights in strange beds rather than their own, which is why Y / N was often alone at night.

It was Monday afternoon and Y / N had been in bed all day reading some stupid book. Probably no one had noticed, that she was missing from Diane's seminar today, she was practically invisible.

And when there was a knock on the door that afternoon, Y / N assumed, that it was Andrea who had forgotten her key again.

Y / N was wearing leggings and sweather and still she felt naked when she climbed out of bed to open the door, which was because she wasn't made up. When she opened the door of her room and saw who was standing there, she wanted to slam the door again.

"P-professor Sherman," she stuttered awkwardly, staring into Diane's slightly smiling face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, I just wanted to see if everything is okay with you," replied Diane with crossed arms. Y / N frowned.

"Do you visit all of your students, who are sick to see if they are okay?"

"I uh- No".

Diane shook her head.

"May I come in?"

Y / N's eyes widened slightly.

"That's not a good idea," she said quickly.

"It'll only take a moment, so please."

Y / N took a second to think about it. She hated Diane, this woman had destroyed Y / N's comfort zone and didn't have to do much to get it. Y / N was so emotional and so vulnerable that a little "weird" was enough to make her insecure.

"Okay," she finally said, nodding before turning to let the woman in.

Now she noticed, how chaotic the whole room was and she was immediately ashamed when she pushed Andrea's shirt aside with her foot, before she sat on the edge of her bed. Diane had closed the door behind her and crossed the room to take the chair at Y / N's desk, which was next to the bed.

"So, how are you?" Asked Diane, sounding a little uninterested, if Y / N could tell.

"I'm okay."

Y / N shrugged.

"I'll be honest," Diane began, staring lost at the chess board, that was on Y /N's desk.

"When I found out today, that you called in sick, I was initially concerned, that it was because of our chess game."

Y / N's eyes narrowed. Damn it.

"Why should I call in sick about it? It was nothing," she lied and Diane nodded quickly.

"I know," she muttered, pensively lifting a black pawn off the board to turn it between her fingers.

"That was, to be honest, the best chess game I've ever played with anyone."

Y / N snorted and shook her head.

"Then it seems like, you've never played with good players, I'm actually really bad," she said with a wry smile.

"It doesn't really matter," muttered Diane.

"I was just afraid, you'd called in sick, because you might find it strange to play chess with me, as your professor."

"And you thought the situation would improve, if you just visit me, as your student, in my room?", Y / N replied confused and Diane just shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess- Uhm, it would be nice if you go now", Y / N explained and got up, because she wanted to go to the door to open it, but when she made the first step, Diane suddenly grabbed her wrist and Y / N immediately whirled around to face her. She stared into Diane's eyes, which looked up at her with concern.

"Are you depressed?" She asked quietly and Y / N decided to hate her even more. Diane found her weird at first and now depressed. Then there was her tight grip on Y / N's wrist, Y / N hated body contact.

"What the hell, no," she hissed and pulled her arm free from Diane's grip. With quick steps she ran to the door to open it again.

"I think you should really go now, I don't want anyone to see me in the dorm with you."

Diane stared at Y / N for a few seconds, before finally getting up and walking to the door as well.

"I'm sorry, that I bothered you," she muttered without looking at Y / N.

"Get well soon, Miss Y / L / N."

With that she stepped out of the room and Y / N immediately locked the door behind her when she felt tears sting her eyes.

I hate people.

[toonformers]

Ignorance is Bliss (Transformers Prime fanfic)

I made TFP Centishock! Uhhh hope you like it!

“Survival log number 309. I am still marooned on Cybertron, with no means of escape. No ship of which I can fly out, no functional space bridge, communications cut off entirely, and no sign of any Decepticon returning to the abandoned planet soon. I only rely on recording my thoughts for now. However, the battery could run out at any moment, and I will be subjected to the horrors of insanity. I need to act fast and find a new power supply for the recorder if I am to survive my own mind in this wasteland.

However, when one is completely blind, said action can prove…difficult. I have been thankfully able to prevent any infection in my optic and have managed to scour Cybertron for useful parts for my experiments just fine, but I’ve yet to repair the optical nerve within my helm. I’ve not studied enough medical science to perform such a delicate repair, and my lack of sight only complicates the procedure. Accidental damage to my processor is a high risk. Therefore, it is illogical I perform such a repair until I find a suitable corpse to reference off, so I may distinguish each part of my system. Ironically, in a planet where all that is left is rubble and corpses, none of them bare heads….at least not whole ones. …Hmm, it seems I was mistaken. There is also one life…apart from my own.”

The purple mech suddenly whipped behind him and fired his canon; he couldn’t see, but the sound of light footsteps following him were easy to detect when all he has heard since being left behind was his own voice, rumbling of debris collapsing and the complete silence dead at night. Shockwave found it strange he could not detect their energy signature, he assumed it was some form of surviving Cybetronian fauna, looking to devour him. He hummed a little, assuming he had gotten the creature in one shot, but then he could hear it: shaky breathing. However, there was no growling or screeching. Perhaps he had injured the creature enough. Being a scientist, he decided to try to investigate what was his attacker, to see if it could provide anything useful. Shockwave felt around for the nearest metallic plate, then banged on it with his arm, allowing the sonar vibrations to reveal a faint purple shape hidden behind debris within his current state of black nothingness. A bot.

“Show yourself.” He said as he slowly walked towards them, his footsteps thudding as he got closer. “Do not try to outrun me, for it will only quicken your demise.”

“I won’t…” A delicate voice responded, cold and calculating like him, but with a hint of fear in their tone. “…as long as you don’t shoot me.”

Shockwave hummed pensively as he heard the voice. “A femme…” He mumbled to himself. “I was sure that there was only one surviving Cybertronian femme…and it was the same one who sabotaged my technology and left me to rust with her colleague. Hope for your sake you are not the same femme…”

“I am not.” The femme swiftly responded; the light footsteps of her standing being heard. “I have never seen you before. We do have in common the aspect of abandonment, though. I was separated from my colleagues in the crossfire, an explosion left me unconscious. When I awoke, I was alone…or so I thought.”

The purple mech did not want to admit it, but he had some sympathy for the femme, and was willing to let her live…for now. However, an essential question remained within the cold, possibly emotionless mind, and the answer would determine whether this femme would live…or die. “I see…what is your faction?”

“Does it matter?” She replied. “We are the only two left in the entirety of Cybertron and will possibly not be in contact with others of our side for the rest of our lives. Fighting to the death would be pointless, as it will not change anything. One of us will still be alone.”

“Hmm…wrong answer.” He responded in a deep almost growling tone as he prepped his canon. It hummed as Shockwave felt the warmth of a charge building up in his weapon and pointed it to the stranger.

“Your optic is broken, is it not?” The femme responded, her previous fear seemingly gone as Shockwave simply stood there, thinking. He kept his canon pointed at her as he allowed her to speak. “Your optical nerve. I can see it’s severely damaged. I am a scientist, but I was trained in all branches of science, including medical. I can repair your wound, then you won’t need to do it yourself. You don’t need to worry about me trying to kill you. I am not skilled in combat, and your size and strength leave me at a disadvantage. Therefore, it would be pointless to try. I’d rather help, regardless of faction.” She sighed softly, hoping that was enough to convince him.

“I find your argument…logical.” The purple mech responded, then lowered his canon as it powered down. “I will allow you to repair me, miss…” He trailed off, allowing the femme to speak her name.

“Centinela. Centinela Minor. Scientist. All-round specialty. And you are…?”

“Shockwave. Chief Decepticon scientist. Genetics specialty.” He extended his servo for a handshake, and Centinela grasped it gently. Her servo was very soft and small with very few scratches, as though these servos had never been in the deep pit of war until recently. Meanwhile, Shockwave’s large clawed servo was full of old and recent scratches, making it feel very rough. And his grip was usually firm, however it softened when he noticed just how small the bot was. By estimate, the femme would be just barely chest height to him, frail and tiny. She made the right choice to not run away, much less try to defend herself. He then let go of the femme’s servo and sighed. “I have a research facility in Tarn. It’s about a megacycle away. It has all the materials required for you to repair my optical nerve.”

“All except the actual nerve…” She responded with a sigh. “The damage is so severe; I’ll have to replace your nerve with another one. I have my own research facility in Tarn as well. There are some bodies who have donated themselves to science of which I can use. Perhaps we should go there first.” Shockwave hummed in response.

“Very well. I will follow you.” And so, the two went off to Centinela’s laboratory, the purple mech suspicious the entire way, and understandably so. He was trusting a stranger, who refused to let him know of her faction, was being led to her laboratory, all while being totally blind. On the other hand, however, Shockwave had a small hunch that this was one of those situations where ignorance is…advantageous. Bliss is illogical.

//

Let’s call that part one. Thinking of doing more. We’ll see!

[aellynera]

The Common Kiss (Poe Dameron x Reader)

THE COMMON KISS - part one

(full disclosure - this has been in my wips since may. of 2020. and it’s been rewritten at least twice and ignored for long enough, and i finally like where it’s going. i plan on four parts total, and here’s the first. i hope you like it.)

Word Count: 1.6k(ish)

Summary: Something weird may or may not being going on around the base, and you were not aware that one of Poe’s official duties was to become a private eye. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

Warnings: Exasperation and nerfherderism (...nerfherding? it’s a thing, ok?) Smooching.

(A/N: Tan Divo was a member of the Coruscant Security Force during the Clone Wars; he is just referenced here in the same way as calling someone Poirot or Clouseau, etc.)

~1~

“Something’s going on around here,” Poe Dameron announced dramatically, setting his tray down on the table and dropping himself onto the seat across from you.

You hardly looked up from your own tray, barely giving him a raised eyebrow before returning to poking around in your stew. It wasn’t terrible as far as meals in the base mess hall went, but the fact it was mostly unidentifiable and extremely grayish-brown didn’t make it particularly appetizing. But it was oddly fascinating...you shook your head and stabbed at a chunk of maybe-protato. “We’re in the middle of a war, Poe. There’s always something going on around here.”

Opening his own container of stew, his nose wrinkled at the contents and instead of sticking his spoon in it, he pointed it at you. “I’m not talking about the war, Stardust. I mean, like, right here. On the base. Something’s up.”

Poe had started calling you that the first day you’d met, the day you arrived on base. He said he liked your name just fine, but “Stardust” just felt more right to him, and it stuck. Every time you heard it, it made your stomach jittery.

Since that day, the two of you had spent more and more time together. Flying missions, patrol duties, Poe sometimes helping you try and decipher intercepted communications from the First Order, games of sabacc lasting well past midnight when you had the rare free day, long talks over a few shots of fire whiskey that Poe always seemed to be able to get his hands on. If you could call anyone in the galaxy, and especially on base, your best friend, it would be Poe Dameron.

There were days you seriously questioned that life choice.

You were completely used to his antics and hyperbole. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to give him a hard time about it.

“Always something going on around here, too,” you replied. “Gonna need to be more specific, Commander.”

The shift in his seat was so subtle, Poe was certain you didn’t notice it.

(You did. You ignored it.)

“Look over there,” Poe replied, pointing his spoon across the room.

You followed his utensil three tables over, where Finn and Rose were sitting across from each other, ignoring their food and talking animatedly. They were both smiling and seemed to be quite the conversation. As far as you could tell, they were acting like two completely normal adults while Poe was bordering on deranged.

A line appeared between your brows as you watched them. “So, they’re talking? They usually sit together and they’re friends. What are you talking about?”

Poe snorted. “But they usually sit with us. They’re sitting alone.”

“Maybe they just need a break from you.”

“Funny, Stardust.”

Shrugging, you went back to your tray. The Keshian spice roll didn’t look too bad - Maz Kanata had recently sent a shipment, just because she could and probably because she knew you and a certain pilot had eaten your combined weight in said rolls the last time you had been to Takodana. She also had a soft spot for Poe, much to your amusement.

“I’m serious, though,” you said, chewing on a bite of roll. “So they’re sitting together but not with us. So what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means something.”

“Poe, it doesn’t mean anything. We got here at different times. Maybe one of them needed to talk about something privately. Maybe they have something to do after lunch and want to make sure they get out of here without getting sidetracked. There could be any number of reasons.”

Poe tore his own spice roll in half and shoved half of a half in his mouth. “I’m telling you, something’s up.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m telling you, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Hey, where’d they go?” Poe asked, mostly ignoring your admonition. You both looked up to where Finn and Rose had been sitting, then towards the doorway where you could see the back of Rose’s head disappearing. Finn was nowhere in sight.

Poe grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. “Come on!”

You stumbled slightly and tried to pull out of his grip, but he just latched on harder and pulled you behind him. “Poe! What the hell are you doing? I’m still eating and you are being a complete nerfher---”

He shoved the other half of his Keshian spice roll in your mouth and simply replied, “Recon. Let’s go.”

~~~

Finn had been minding his own business. He had left the mess hall a few minutes ago after his lunch with Rose, his attention completely switched and his nose now buried in a datapad. He was checking the most recent reports of the First Order’s outpost activity in the nearest systems. His focus was almost totally on the datapad, with just enough presence to not walk face-first into walls and barely enough to not walk face-first into people. He had almost taken out several personnel and two droids along the way so far. Each time he mumbled offhand apologies and went right back to the reports on his pad.

No, that doesn’t look suspicious. No, that’s just a natural outcropping. No, that’s...well, maybe...nah. Nothing there. No...wait...hmm...maybe? His mind was trying to wrap around the intel before the next command meeting, and frankly, he was kind of bored. He knew the work was important but he really had to concentrate to get his work done. And concentrate a little extra to not bash into people, or robotic friends.

He was really just wandering, back and forth, round and round as he thought and worked.

That’s why he never saw Rose.

He definitely never saw you or Poe, who had been trailing a few feet behind Rose at Poe’s insistence and amid repeated whispered proclamations that something was definitely going on. As Finn came into sight, Poe made you crouch down behind a bulkhead and paid no attention to your eyeroll. But even Poe’s eyes went wide with what happened next.

One minute Finn was trying to figure out if there was any pertinent information on the recon data. The next minute he was being yanked into a storage closet by a hand that shot out and grabbed his elbow.

“Okay, so if nothing’s happening, then what the hell was that?” Poe hissed at you.

“Oh, shut up,” you shot back. “This is so stupid, Poe, I’m going back to the hangar to work on my ship.” You stood up and started to turn away.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down. “No! Come on, Stardust, we gotta see how this plays out.”

The irritated sigh you planned to give him stuck in your throat as you suddenly realized how close your body had pressed against his. His voice was low and very close to your ear and was it getting warmer in here? You tried to quietly clear your throat and remember how to breathe.

You hoped Poe didn’t notice.

(He did. He chose to not say anything.)

Meanwhile, in the supply closet, Finn’s datapad went crashing to the floor and he yelped in surprise, a yelp that was suddenly cut off by Rose’s lips pressed against his as the closet door slammed shut behind them.

His eyes went wide, then closed as he responded and leaned into it, her lips soft against his. The datapad and the recon reports and anything and everything that had to do with something other than Rose’s lips was utterly forgotten. After a few minutes, she pulled away and they looked at each other. At the exact same time, they both said, “Wow.”

“What was that for?” Finn finally asked, his brain switching back on and finally finding his voice. “That...that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Rose gave him an impish grin and pressed a finger to his lips as she whispered in his ear, “Cause I knew you wouldn’t do it first.” With that, she turned and exited the closet, leaving Finn staring after her, once again dumbstruck and speechless.

~~~

Poe’s head perked up as he heard the *shhhik* of the closet door sliding open. You both looked over to see Rose saunter out with a suspicious skip in her step and a sly grin on her face.

Poe turned to you, clearly about to make some comment or ask another inane question, but he was cut off by Rose calling over her shoulder as she passed.

“Hey, Y/N!” she said cheerfully. She glanced down with a confused expression. “Dameron. What are you guys up to?”

“Hey Rose,” you replied, trying to sound normal.

“I was...uh...just tying my boot,” Poe replied. You rested your forehead on the wall and closed your eyes.

Rose lifted a shoulder, rolled her eyes, and kept walking. “Poe, stop being weird.”

You didn’t bother to try and hold back your laugh.

Poe scowled. “Do you think she’s onto us?”

He grimaced as your elbow sunk into his side. “We’re behind a bulkhead,” you pointed out, “not really concealed at all, and you told her you were tying your boot. Next time maybe plan your paranoid surveillance mission a little better, genius.”

Before Poe could stick his tongue out at you, his attention was diverted back to the closet door.

Finn emerged a moment later, still with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

Poe stood up, dragging you with him. He ignored your elbow in his side this time. “Finn! Buddy! Hey, uh...is everything okay?”

Finn didn’t respond for a few moments, then seemed to focus on Poe as if seeing him for the first time in ages. “Huh? Oh...yeah,” he replied. “Everything...is fine. I, uh, I’m gonna go lie down for a bit, I’m just, uh, feeling a little off...think maybe I caught something.”

Without another word, he stumbled off towards his quarters.

“See!” Poe hissed at you. “I told you there was something going around.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “I can’t with you anymore today. I’m going to work on my ship. Try not to get into any trouble, Divo.”

~the end...for now~

Taglist:  @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @damerondjarin​ @deeandbobbymcgee​ @rosemarysbaby13​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @itspdameronthings​ @poedjarin​ @sergeantkane​ @spider-starry​ @woakiees​ @writefightandflightclub​ @veuliee2​ @yourbucky084​

Poe Dameron taglist:   @millllenniawrites​ @waatermelon-sugaar​​

>>taglist is open and the form is here<<

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

Violette Pt. 4

@kittenlittle24  @evelynrosestuff

Johnny was glad that he took up Violette on her offer because he had to get out of Los Angeles; Violette was a gracious host and they fell back in sync with each other. While she was at work, he took the opportunity to explore the area to find souvenirs for his kids and check up on them, other times he’d go through Violette’s books and movies and photo albums, which were his favorite things to do. The albums were completely filled up with pictures. There were pictures of her at weddings, work related parties, vacation pictures (lots of them), newspaper clippings of her accomplishments. It made him happy knowing that Violette became so successful and is well respected, because she deserves it.

When he heard the keys at the door, he quickly closed the book and turned up the volume on an episode of Chopped just as Violette walked in, shaking water off her umbrella and putting it in the stand.  “Sorry I’m late! I was held up with paperwork then there was a wreck, but on the plus side I got Italian!” It was nearly eight thirty when they sat down to eat, the both of them digging into their shrimp pasta as they filled each other in on their day. Since it was Friday and Violet didn’t have to be at work the next day, they watched TV together after dinner, the living room dark except for a lamp on a low setting. It was halfway through a second episode of Fraser, the one where Fraser accidentally tells Daphne about Niles’ feelings for her before the wedding when Johnny noticed Violette had fallen asleep.

Her head was tipped back and her chest was gently rising and falling; she looked so comfortable and peaceful he felt bad for waking her. Johnny shook her gently. “Hey Vi? It’s time to wake up, you’re gonna hurt your neck like that.” Slowly, Violette came to, lifting her head from the back of the couch, her eyes slowly opening. “Huh? What time is it?” 

Her voice was heavy with sleep and she stretched, arms above her head. “Bout time for you to go to bed. You fell asleep halfway through Fraser.” Violette knew he was right; she had a long day at work and now all she wanted was to apply a serum or two and get into bed. “You’re right, it’s been a long day. Do you want the bathroom first?” He shook his head no, and she smiled  before heading to her room.

“Good night Johnny.” They both headed their separate ways, and as he changed into his pajamas, Johnny could hear Violette doing her night time routine, the faucet running every few minutes as she rinsed her face. He checked his phone for messages, emails from his lawyer and Amber’s, two missed phone calls from his family about funeral arrangements, all things that can wait until tomorrow; he hooked it up to the charger and placed it face down. After a few more minutes, the faucet turned up for the last time, and Violette knocked twice before opening the door. “Bathroom’s all yours now.” 

He tried not to notice how long her legs looked in her pajama pants or how ample her chest looked, even in an oversized shirt. Frankly, ever since he got here, Johnny’s been trying to ignore how gorgeous Violette is; she looked good in just about everything she wore: her work clothes where the slacks she wore clung to her legs like a second skin, the leggings and tank tops he saw her in, drenched in sweat when she came back after a morning run. It was like acting in front of a green screen and trying to ignore how ridiculous Bill Nighy looks with black dots on his face as he wears a gray leotard. Johnny couldn’t ignore the fact that Violette has an ass and breasts, and he felt guilty checking her out when her back was turned, but what could he do? He certainly wasn’t going to tell a grown woman to cover up in her own home; with a sigh, he shuffled into the bathroom to do his business.

Meanwhile, Violette was in bed, simultaneously reading and going through her text messages; due to the torrential rain that would be coming this weekend, book club was cancelled (which she was grateful for because she’s kind of behind the rest of the group). Violette was just about to call it a night when a new message appeared, from Angela. I know you took my floral dress the other day. Mikayla said she saw you leave with it.  Yes, she did take the dress but that’s only because Angela took her favorite Dooney and Bourke handbag (something that happened months ago and Violette has yet to see it back in her closet) but unlike her sister, she plans on actually returning it. And what about it? she typed back. You can pick it up from the dry cleaner on Basin Street tomorrow, and you’re one to talk considering I haven’t seen my Dooney and Bourke purse since New Years.  

Once the message was sent, she went back to her book, which had five chapters left; Violette reached for the notebook and pen and started scribbling notes about the chapter when her phone buzzed again. Thank you. And as for your purse, I think Miki has it. It’s hanging on the doorknob of her closet. Probably thought it was mine. But how’s it going with Johnny? Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and she didn’t know what to say. How is it going with Johnny? Violette wanted to tell her sister that things are great, like nothing’s changed between them, about her growing feelings for her ex husband, but all she texted back was that things are fine. 

Really, only fine? Leave it to Angela to be overly observant, might as well come clean now. It feels like nothing’s changed between us even though a LOT has. We’re cracking jokes, eating together, going out. It feels like old times. Violette knew what Angela was going to say next: that they need to slow down, how Johnny probably isn’t ready for another relationship when he already has so much going on. She hastily texted: And I know what you’re going to say next, but I can’t help it. He’s still Johnny. I gotta go, it’s late. 

She put her phone on the charger and placed it face down on the nightstand. Violette hoped that all her feelings toward Johnny could just be chalked up to not getting enough sex or boredom or loneliness, because really, what would a relationship with Johnny look like today? Probably a long distance relationship and media interference, and she’d had enough of that from last time to last a lifetime. Besides, Violette never dates men with children, and in her age group, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack to find a single male in their late forties/early fifties who doesn't have children. Shaking her head at the thought, she pulled the covers up over her head and waited for the air conditioner to kick on to lull her to sleep.

So this was how the rest of their week went, both of them pining over the other without the other’s knowledge: Johnny pretended not to notice her figure and his growing attraction and Violette pretended that she didn’t harbor romantic feelings for him, until one day Johnny couldn’t take it any longer. He brought up the question while they sat in Violette’s car at a snowball stand, the a/c blasting and the radio on a low volume. “Why are we doing this, Vi?” The question was so out of left field that she almost choked on a bubblegum flavored hunk of ice. “What do you mean?” she asked, sucking the bubblegum syrup from the ice. 

“I mean, why are we ignoring… whatever this is? We’re adults, Violette, we should be able to communicate with each other.” She was sure she was doing a good job at masking her feelings, but apparently she was wrong. “Because Johnny, it wouldn’t matter. Your life is in LA, with your children and work and my life is here. What could we actually do about it? You’re only here for another week.” Violette was actually glad that he brought it up now, because there was no way they would be able to do anything about it, since Johnny would be here for another week before going home. Leaving Violette alone with her unresolved feelings.

“And you already have so much going on. Are you sure this is what you want? If you’re ready for this?” Violette put another spoonful of her snowball in her mouth, sucking off the syrup until the ice was hard packed on her tongue. “Is that what you’re scared of? That I might leave again?” Johnny asked. “Not might, but will. As you can see, I don’t have a normal work schedule and I’m not a fan of long distance relationships.” And because I’m scared you could hurt me again,” she added in her head.

“Johnny, we’re not in the ‘80s anymore. We’re so different now, we always have been.” Johnny sighed before putting his cup in a cup holder. “We’re not that different, you’re still you and I’m still me. We’re older now, have more life experience. Violette, we were so young when we got married. And I moved on from her long before I thought about filing for divorce.” She took his words into consideration, really thinking about it. Was the reason why she never remarried is because that deep in her subconscious, Violette knew she and Johnny would make their way back to each other?

“Just one chance is all I’m asking. Please.” He looked so sincere, and the offer was so tempting. How many times had Violette had this dream of Johnny coming back to her and begging her to take him back? Too many times in the early days of their breakup, and Johnny was right, they’re older now, old enough to know what they want in their partners. “What do you say? Can you give me another chance? We can take it slow, whatever you want.”

Violette put the last spoonful of her snowball in her mouth, savoring the last bite as she thought it over. While she was a little apprehensive about the whole thing, she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t at least a little curious as to how a relationship with Johnny would be like today. A lot of traveling back and forth, probably meeting his kids at some point. And what about long term? Would they live together?

 Get married (or in their case remarried)? “We’ll take it slow?” Violette asked, just to make sure. “As slow as you want,” he answered. Violette smiled and grabbed Johnny’s hand. “Okay.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

The Love Yet Known Part 2

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Thanks for the love for the first part! Heres for you, @97freaknik. Sorry the tagging system isn’t working. 

And thank you to my permanent tag who have yet to block me despite my spamming of works. 

          The drive to London was almost absolutely silent. Neither Alfie nor Eliza really knew what to say to one another. It was as if they were just acting out something for the sake of Tommy. Neither of them exactly knew how they’d ended up in such a predicament.

            Alfie’s mind was racing, wondering how stupid he was to agree to something like marrying a Shelby. He thought about the ramifications, was there even a rabbi who would consider converting her and allowing them to marry? What sort of effect would this have on his life in the long run?

            He glanced to his left where Eliza had been sitting quietly since they’d left Warwickshire. Her eyes were locked on the window, never turning her head. He wondered if she was wishing she was on the outside, not in the car with him. Maybe she figured if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t have to think of the arrangement.  

            Alfie cleared his throat, the silence too uncomfortable for his liking. “Erm, you like dogs?” He asked.

            She looked away from the window to show she had heard him. “Pardon?”

            “Dogs? Do you like dogs? I have a dog.” He clarified. “He ain’t mean or anything. I bought him to be a guard dog but he had other plans. Too nice for his own good.”

            A hint of a smile formed on her lips. The sense of humor didn’t exactly fit his image. But it did help her relax a little. “Yes, I like dogs.”

            “Good. That’s good. I sorta have a nasty habit of picking up strays.” He admitted. “I don’t keep all of ‘em. There’s a charity that a dear friend of mine runs. They train dogs to help blind people. So, they take in most of the strays.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was strange. It was almost as if he was trying to list off his good traits so Eliza wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster. Maybe he could put her mind at ease. “But, Cyril I kept. Cyril’s me dog. I kept him, couldn’t give him away.” The silence on Eliza’s end was killing him. He wanted her to say exactly what she thought about him. Most people who worked for him kept their opinions to themselves. Most of his business partners/enemies were vocal about what they thought. But neither of those opinions mattered. Because none of those people were intending to marry him. If they were to marry, Alfie wanted to know Eliza’s opinion of him. Even if she said she hated him and wished him dead, at least he would know.

            “He sounds lovely.” She said politely.

            “Yeah…he is.” Alfie fiddled with one of his rings. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make this work. It gave him a headache thinking about it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Much to Alfie’s relief, Eliza took immediately to Cyril. The bullmastiff seemed to enjoy a female presence in the flat. At least she didn’t feel completely alone in Camden Town. Alfie just felt a little guilty that her only companion was a slobbery, goofy dog.

            Still, he capitalized on her affection for the mutt. He allowed her to take Cyril out for walks whenever she pleased and didn’t say anything when Cyril started to sleep in her bedroom.

            Meanwhile, Alfie was trying to figure out the complicated matters of converting Eliza so they could get married. Tommy continued to call to push the matter. It was clear over the phone that he was desperate to make the union complete. The Italians would be closing in at any time and Tommy didn’t need another threat from Camden Town to weigh on him.

            “Y’know, I know you’re godless, Tommy. I understand that, but us godly men have rules and those rules simply cannot be tampered with. Centuries of laws, mate, can’t be overturned ‘cause you find it inconvenient.” Alfie said over the phone.

            “I gave you money to ensure it.”

            “Right, well some rabbis take bribes as an insult, mate.”

            “Alfie, if you’re holding out on me…” Tommy warned.

            “She’s been living with me for nearly a month, Thomas, if I really wanted to back out, I would’ve sent her home to you.” He cut the man off.

            Tommy muttered something over the line but Alfie couldn’t hear what it was.

            “There’s a rabbi that Ollie found that might go through with the conversion and marriage,” Alfie said. “When I hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

            The Blinder seemed to have his worries put to rest at least for the time being. “And how is she doing there?”

            “Well, her best friend is me dog,” Alfie replied honestly. “She hardly speaks to me, not that I blame her much.”

            “She’s always been quiet,” Tommy assured him.

            “Well, circumstances ‘n such.” Alfie sighed and cracked his knuckles. “Anyways, I’ll let you know, Tom. I’ll let you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~           

            One night a couple of days later, Alfie and Eliza were sat down together for dinner. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve found rabbis who are willing to convert you.” He brought up the topic.

            “Oh. Okay.” She nodded.

            Alfie had learned over the few weeks together that she was a difficult person to read. She was a lot like Tommy, and less like her other brothers who were prone to showing their emotions on the outside. She always spoke to him in a calm, steady, and polite manner. Almost as if she were afraid of setting him off, or it was simply just her demeanor. Alfie would’ve preferred if she were a bit more like Arthur, as terrible as that would be. At least he would know what she was thinking instead of having to guess.

            “Didya…well…have ya put any thought into it? I mean, ain’t a small decision.”

            Eliza shrugged as she pushed her food around the plate with her fork. “I haven’t put much thought into religion.” She admitted. “Polly was the only one who took Christianity seriously in our family.”

            “Right.” He nodded. “Still, being Jewish is more a way of life, innit?”

            “That’s what I’ve been told.” Alfie had arranged for Ollie’s wife to give some insight to Eliza into what it meant to be a Jewish wife. He assumed they’d bonded, but Eliza didn’t say much about it. Though, she did frequently visit Ruth and her and Ollie’s pack of kids. She never said what they spoke about.

            “Right. Well, just wanted to know what your thoughts about it were.” He posed the question again, hoping to get a little further into her mindset.

            “Ruth said if we were going to have children, they needed to be brought up fully Jewish. Or at least, that’s what she thought your intentions were.”

            Alfie cleared his throat. How could they discuss children? Of course, it was a factor but a child wouldn’t just magically appear once they were married. And they hadn’t even touched each other aside from the mistaken brush of an arm. “Well, right.” He tilted his head to the side, hoping suddenly for an interruption so he could leave the conversation.

            “Alfie?”

            The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was the first time she had addressed him by name. The way she spoke his name was so soft. Like nothing, he’d heard before. “Hm?” He couldn’t exactly speak properly.

            “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

            He raised an eyebrow. “Afraid? Well, I’d hope not. I told your brothers that I ain’t here to hurt you.”

            “Then why do you walk on eggshells around me?”

            Alfie opened his mouth but only let out a small, confused grumble. It must’ve been that Shelby wit that had gotten them there. She was so good at concealing her feelings that Alfie looked like a fool. Dancing around the topic, trying to please her, giving her everything she wanted. God, he must’ve looked like a sap.

            She smiled slightly. “I didn’t expect you to try to impress me so much. The way my brothers spoke of you, I was expecting something else entirely.”

            He drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s a difference, yeah, ‘tween business and me personal life. What your brothers see ain’t what you’ll see.” He tried to explain.

            It was different from her family’s mentality, or Tommy’s to be more specific. In the Shelby family, everyone dealt with family business. There were no exceptions unless you absconded. Even then, it was tricky to escape business. But it appeared Alfie was keener to keep his two lives separate. Eliza considered how this difference might benefit her.

            “All the day’s shit, yeah, it gets left at the fucking door.” He pointed down the hall toward the front door. “This is sorta a sanctuary, innit?”

            Eliza nodded. “That sounds nice.”

            “Nice, yeah it is nice.” He agreed.

            They were quiet for a moment, neither of them really wanted to return to the conversation topic of children. It seemed too fresh.

            “Ruth is trying to teach me how to cook kosher.” She spoke up after a bit. It was the first time she offered any information without Alfie prompting her. Maybe because now she felt the flat was a safe place for her. “Just, I dunno if you were wondering why I’m there for so long.”

            Alfie shrugged. “I’m glad you two have gotten along. Didn’t want you to feel lonely here.” He admitted and went back to eating before his dinner went cold.  

            Eliza watched him for a split second. So, he cared about how she felt? Imagine that.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            It took quite a bit of convincing to get the rabbis to convert Eliza. Wrestling with tradition, Alfie knew he was asking for a lot. But the conversion went through and under Jewish law, he was allowed to marry her. Not that he was looking for some massive wedding. It would be best to call the least amount of attention to himself as possible. The Camden community might not take kindly to his bride-to-be if they found out she was a convert. And if they found out she was a Shelby? Well, granted, Alfie was scary enough to thwart off criticism. But he didn’t want the rumors to get around to Eliza. He didn’t want her to feel unwelcome.

            In reality, Alfie felt as though he was going mad. Since when had he given two shits about someone’s comfort? His job was basically to make people feel uncomfortable so they’d be more willing to listen. But apparently, Eliza had made quite an impact on him.

            She fit in very nicely in his flat. Never made a fuss or anything. That wasn’t to say she was like a little dormouse. She wasn’t very tidy. Alfie chalked this up to her growing up with five siblings. He didn’t particularly mind, though. It was nice to see the flat actually lived in. For so long it had been just a place to sleep. But Alfie realized he had grown fond of coming home late from work and finding traces of Eliza throughout the house.

            A dirty pan in the sink, her book on the sofa, a couple of hairpins on the coffee table, and the stray teacup with cold tea that had been forgotten about.

            For a brief moment, as he cleaned up, he wondered if their children would be just as messy. Alfie could imagine coming home to the floor littered with toys. It brought a smile to his face.

            Of course, children was still a conversation they had to have. Alfie loathed the fact that they had to get over that little mountain of a decision. He wouldn’t dare force anything onto her. Purely by his own standards and morals. Plus, the added benefit of getting a bullet in his head courtesy of the Shelby boys.

            So, he waited and hoped that was something they could get to. Because, despite their relationship still being merely two people who lived together, he did like her. More so, even.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The wedding, although very traditional in the ritual sense, was very small. Only a few people very close to Alfie attended if only to witness the union. There wasn’t a reception or party to follow. No grand affair.

            They simply walked out of the building as man and wife.

            “Alfie, can I ask you something?”

            “’Course.” It was a bit strange. Eliza was standing in the foyer as he went to go feed Cyril. Standing in her wedding dress, she looked a bit out of place.

            “I know what is…expected of us tonight.” She wrung her hands together. “But I don’t think I’m quite ready. I’m sorry I just…”

            Alfie felt oddly relieved. He was hoping she would say something, otherwise, he’d feel like a monster if she went through with consummating the marriage and she wasn’t ready. “No reason to apologize, love.” He walked back out of the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. “Ain’t any rush.”

            “I appreciate that.” She said softly. “Thank you.”

            “So…I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ve got to work early.”

            “I’ll make breakfast.” She offered.

            “Nah, that’s alright. You don’t need to get up so early.”

            “I don’t mind…”

            “S’alright, love.” He gave her a warm smile and held out an arm, allowing her to go upstairs first.

            Eliza smiled back, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. She went upstairs, allowing Cyril to trot by her.

            “I had a few things shipped in from Paris. Sorta wedding gift, if you will. I hope you don’t mind, I asked Ruth if she could help me.” Alfie said as he climbed the stairs behind her. “I left it on your bed.”

            “Oh, Alfie, you didn’t need to-”

            “S’alright.” He assured her, meeting her at the top of the stairs. “You Shelbys like nice things, aye?”

            She shrugged. “I’m a Solomons now.” She pointed out.

            He let out a brief chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true. F’ya want, we can get a nice box for your dress. Maybe to store it? I dunno, me mum did the same thing. I still have her dress, fuck if I know what I’m gonna do with it. But she-well it were the only thing she brought from Russia.”

            “I understand, it’s important to you.” Eliza agreed.

            Alfie rubbed a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Well, I won’t keep you up.”

            “Goodnight, Alfie.” She smiled at him before going down the hall to her room. Like he said, there was a large box on her bed. After shutting the door, Eliza opened the top and found an array of beautiful pieces of clothing that must’ve cost a fortune. Beaded gowns, satin gloves, a fur-lined coat, and much more. Eliza carefully unpacked everything, folding the items or hanging them up in the closet. Then she landed on a pair of silk pajamas that looked like what picture stars wore. A gorgeous burgundy color with embroidered designs on the cuffs of the shirt and pants.

            She smiled and felt her heart skip a beat. It had been a little unnerving knowing that she would become a Jewish wife. There were a lot of changes she had to make, moving to Camden, marrying Alfie, and trying to keep her end of the bargain by converting. But in the end, she was still married to a gangster. One who, although he looked simply, did like luxury items. And maybe it was how he was trying to show his affection for her.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Married life wasn’t all that different for Alfie. He continued to work the same tireless hours and continued to keep up his agenda of legal and illegal operations. Mostly illegal.

            What changed was coming home to a gentle person who had a good skill of keeping the flat calm. Alfie assumed that like the other Shelbys, Eliza would manage to only raise his blood pressure. But she had the opposite effect.

            She had become more of an open book with him, which led Alfie to believe they were moving in the right direction. She told him more about what she did during the day. Mainly, she spent her time with Ruth and some of the other women in the neighborhood.

            It was nice to hear things that weren’t related to business. Alfie’s entire life was business. Now he had someone else to occupy his thoughts.

            As the weeks wore on, both Eliza and Alfie began talking on a more intimate level. Soon she found she was telling him things not even her siblings knew. Things that were very personal to her.       

            She also began to notice Alfie stealing a few looks her way. Meanwhile, she found herself looking forward to seeing him every day and often was disappointed if he worked late and she fell asleep before he came home. Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her or called her pet names. She figured it was just instinct, something he did to everyone. But it felt special to her.

            Eliza realized, when winter came, that there was no reason for her sheepishness. They were married, after all. If she wanted to further their relationship, all she had to do was ask.

            So, she did. One night, Alfie came home late from work. He picked at some leftovers waiting for him, before heading upstairs. His hip was bothering him as the days got colder, so he wasn’t in a grand mood. When he reached the second floor, the door to Eliza’s room opened.           

            “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to wake you.”

            “You didn’t, I was waiting for you to get home.” She lingered in the doorway for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, I would’ve kept you company while you ate.”

            “S’alright, didn’t eat much.” He shrugged. “There something you needed?”

            “Well, yes.” She walked into the hallway. It felt a little silly asking her husband what she was going to ask. So, Eliza gained some of that Shelby confidence and looked him in the eye. “Will you kiss me?”

            It certainly wasn’t what Alfie expected. He thought maybe she wanted to use the car or needed some spending cash. So, he felt a little bad that he was silent for so long, but he didn’t know what to say. “Erm, I didn’t-well-”

            Eliza began to clam up, fearing she had overstepped a line. Maybe it was all in her head and Alfie didn’t really like her all that much. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve asked…”

            Alfie caught her hand before she could scurry back to her room. He drew her closer and his other hand cupped her cheek. His eyes searched her face before he kissed her, trying to get a mental image of her locked in his head. The tiny bit of freckles on her face, the wintery blue eyes looking up, yearning, and the way her lips parted slightly. He would catalog the little bits of information away because he couldn’t imagine how this would last long. Nothing good in life ever lasted long and Eliza was one of the best damn things that ever happened to him.

            That night, Eliza slept in Alfie’s room for the first time. It was how she came to the realization that her husband was just a big bear. Grumpy, stubborn, yet he cared for his own. Eliza liked that. She had grown up around bristly love. Polly marched them to mass every Sunday no matter how much they complained because she wanted to ‘save their souls’. Arthur would gladly murder any boy who gave her even the slightest of looks. Tommy was stern but she found out later it was because they had no father figure so he had to take on the role. And John? Well, John pretended to hate his twin sister. He wanted to appear tough in front of his friends and teased her at school. But every night, when there was no available light to read, he conjured up a story for her.

            Other people may not have understood, but Eliza knew that real relationships couldn’t be found in the pages of her books. She liked Alfie because he was real. The most real thing she’d ever known.

            After that night, their relationship bloomed much faster. They found married life soothing when others found it stressful. They enjoyed each other’s company so much that Alfie started to cut back on late nights at the bakery. It meant more to Eliza than he might have realized.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            As the situation with the Italians got more intense, Alfie started to realize how much their relationship had grown. He found himself contacting Tommy more often, demanding information about what Luca Changretta was doing. He wanted to ensure there would be no threat to his London empire and there would be no threat to his wife.

            His anxiety about everything reached a boiling point when Eliza disappeared one morning. Had he looked in his study, he would’ve seen the note she left for him saying that she was taking the car to visit her family in Small Heath.

            But he didn’t. So, he naturally assumed something bad happened and rallied a search team. He was at his wit's end, practically tearing his hair out.

            When Eliza arrived home, unharmed and acting normally, he lost his cool.

            “Where the fuck have you been?” He demanded when she walked through the door as if nothing had happened.

            Eliza looked taken aback. He’d never taken such a harsh tone with her. “Pardon?”

            “I’ve half me men out looking for you, you think it’s alright to just disappear like that?”

            “Alfie, I left you a fucking note on your desk.” She snapped, not happy he was talking to her in such a way. He usually was very respectful.

            He looked a bit hesitant, maybe he had neglected to see the note. But he was still too upset to admit he was in the wrong. “You could’ve told me, aye? Where were you?”

            “What does it matter?” She asked defensively, trying to pass by him in the hallway.

            “Because there’s a man out there who wants to wipe out your entire family, Liz!” He snapped, standing in her way so she couldn’t shrug off his concern.

            “You don’t think I know that?”

            “You have no idea where he could be or what he could’ve done to you!”

            “I was in Small Heath, I was perfectly okay.” She retorted. “I have the right to go where I please.”

            “Small Heath?” Alfie looked at her in disbelief. To think she could go that far and think she would be fine on her own. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

            “Do not take that tone with me!” She held strong against him. “If I want to see my family, I can. You can’t keep me locked up in Camden.”

            “That ain’t…” He let out a frustrated noise. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel trapped. “I don’t understand why you just up and left. What did you need to do there?”

            “That’s my business.”

            “Liz-”

            “You don’t control me, Alfie.”

            “I know!” He shouted. “You don’t think I know that? But I care too much about you to let you be killed because of what your fucking brother has gotten your family into!”

            Eliza’s lower lip wobbled and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I went because I was late. My aunt confirmed it, I’m pregnant.”

            Alfie was knocked right in the gut by the news. What he thought would never happen was now a reality. “Liz…”

            “Just fuck off.” She spat and turned to head upstairs. But she paused halfway. “I was so excited to tell you and this is how I’m treated? You can sleep on the couch.” She stomped upstairs and slammed the door shut before locking it.

            Alfie felt like an absolute imbecile. He was notorious for letting his temper get the better of him. But he was proud of himself for never letting Eliza see that side of him. Now he had mucked up what they’d been building for months.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~          

            Eliza didn’t come down for dinner or breakfast the next day. Alfie decided to try and speak with her before he went to the bakery for the day.

            His first knock was met with silence.

            “Eliza, please, just let me apologize.” He said as he knocked again.

            “Go to hell, Alfie.” She finally replied.

            He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Love, I’m tryna apologize, here!” He exclaimed. “What else do you want me to do?”

            There was another bout of silence before the door swung open. “You think an apology is some grandiose gesture?” She demanded. “Alfie, I’ve walked across hot coals for you and you don’t even realize.”

            “M’tryna…I don’t know what you want me to say.” He grimaced, realizing how shit he was at relationships sometimes.

            “I went to Small Heath and you know what Ada said to me? She asked me about my headscarf. She said it was oppressive and I never should’ve converted for you. She said you would never be able to do anything that comes close to what I’ve done for you. Do you want to know what I said?”

            Alfie nodded.

            “I said she was wrong. I told her that you treated me right. You respected me. You were there for me and appreciated the person I was. I converted for you, I married you, and now I’m going to give you a child. So, don’t act like you have this authority over me when I’ve done so much for you.”

            He sighed. “You’re right, love. It were wrong for me to treat you like that.” He acknowledged in a rare event of humility. “But me worst fear is losing you. ‘Cause you’re the only thing on this Earth that means a damn to me. If I lost you if that fucker killed you? I’d never forgive myself. I would spend the rest of me days mourning.”

            Eliza’s tense stance relaxed a bit when she heard the genuine concern in his voice. His anger was out of fear. She knew men like Alfie had a hard time addressing their fears because they weren’t meant to be scared of anything. Her voice softened. “I’m not going anywhere.” She promised. “You have me until the end of time.”

            “And you have me.”

            She smiled and stepped into his arms so he could hold her close. “That’s good to know.”

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PB Masterlist

[dean-winchesters-gardian-angel]

The Same bed - Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Word count: 2544

Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of blood and injuries, nightmares, slow burn.

A/N: Chapter 4! Off we go. Read it enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. As are the latests, Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean didn't sleep that night, too busy cursing himself for hurting Y/N and simultaneously afraid he may have a nightmare. He had gotten up several times with the intention of going to her room and seeking forgiveness if she'd give it to him, though he wouldn't blame her if she refused. Instead, he'd pace around his room or make it as far as her door before heading to the bathroom to wash his face rather than knocking.

The next night Dean had been too exhausted to stay awake, now accustomed to getting around 8 hours he passed out some time just after 2 in the morning while everyone else slept soundly. Dean managed to get just over an hour of shut-eye before waking up to one of his worst nightmares. He jolted up with a scream though quickly cut himself off as to not wake anyone. Nevertheless, he was half a scream too late as Y/N sat up in her own bed wanting to go check on him but refused due to her own stubbornness.

Dean mumbled a 'son of bitch' before getting up and making his way to the kitchen to get started on some coffee. Dean was given about 2 hours to contemplate his idiocy towards Y/N before his brother found his way to the kitchen.

"Dean?"

"Huh? Hey, morning."

"Man, you look like trash."

"Oh, thanks you're not so bad yourself in the shorts." Sam looked to his running shorts before rolling his eyes.

"You always did give me a hard time for wanting to stay in shape."

"Hunting keeps you in shape, not some little jaunt you do every morning. Hey, speaking of, have you found any new cases seems like forever since we've killed a deserving asshat."

"I've been talking to Jody and Donna, they've got a lead on a vamp nest, said they're heading out in two days and we're more than welcome to tag along."

"So, tomorrow. What time."

"They wanted to hit it just after sundown. So, we would leave tomorrow morning if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm interested, give me some' to kill."

"Dean are you sure you're okay. You usually become self-destructive when you've got something going on, something you need to talk about."

"I'm fine, Sammy."

"I'd mention that Y/N isn't sleeping in your room anymore, but I think that'd just make you mad considering that's probably what's bothering you."

"So much for not mentioning it." Dean swallowed what was left in his coffee cup before washing it and setting it in the dry rack. He made his way back to his room hoping his brother would take the hint and leave for his run, which he did. Once he heard the bunker door shut Dean went back to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee. As he sat down the sound of footsteps padding down the hall alerting him that Y/N had awoken. Dean straightened his posture as she entered the kitchen making her way to the cabinet to fish out a mug without making eye contact.

"Morning Y/N."

"Oh my god! It speaks." She filled her mug before walking out having not looked him in the eyes once. Dean rested his chin in his palm kicking himself for having hurt her. After a deep sigh, he dragged his palm over his face closing his eyes momentarily allowing them some rest from the lights of the bunker. Dean strolled his way to Y/N's room and knocked on her door. He heard her sniffle some before the door swung open, Y/N standing in front of him, eyebrows raised clearly on her last nerve.

"I just wanted to let you know we've got a case tomorrow, with Jody and Donna, we've got to leave early-ish so, you know, you might want to pack today so you're not rushing. Anyway, just keeping you in the loop." Y/N looked at her best friend whose eyes were tired, red, and glossy, staring at the ground in front of him. She missed him, but she didn't know why he was angry at her.

"Thanks." She turned away from him intent on closing her door to block the view of the broken man she so deeply cared about and wanted to help, and he spoke.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?" Dean swallowed trying to think of what he wanted to say to her but came up with nothing. There wasn't anything specific he wanted to tell her in that moment he just wanted to be with her. In the same room sitting next to her, looking at her. He wanted to spend time with his best friend whom he had been missing lately but if there was one person more stubborn than Y/N it was Dean.

"Nothing...nothing." With a sad smile and a sigh, Dean walked to his own room with the aim of avoiding her, once again, all day.

Dean listens as Y/N played her music in her room and smiled when the Grease love song came though it wasn't given a chance to finish before Y/N skipped it. He could hear his brother and Y/N talking in the library during the day occasionally finding something funny as they giggled in unison. He missed having her, missed being the one laughing with her, or even just talking with her.

Nearing the end of the day, Dean made his way out of his room for the first time that to grab a snack before trying his hand at some forty winks, wanting to be rested up before their hunt tomorrow. The energy of the room sizzled to nothing as he entered the kitchen. Sammy and Y/N were sitting next to each other looking at pictures of haircuts on the internet.

"Seriously Sam, I've been cutting my own hair my whole life. Just let me add a little shape to it. A little trim here and there I can make you look like the handsome devil you really are."

"I'm not letting you cut my hair. I don't trust you not to just cut it all off. Besides, I don't—" Both their eyes looked up to Dean as he stood in the doorway observing their interaction. Once he noticed their gaze he moved to the counter, pulling a bowl from the cupboard and reaching for the box of cereal.

"Sam and I made pasta if you're hungry for real food." Dean looked over the noodles as his tummy growled, licking his lips.

"Dean, just have some, we're not gonna finish it. It'll just end up going to waste." He hesitantly looked over his shoulder forcing a smile to Y/N who had the smallest one of her on her face. She watched him as he traded his bowl for a plate. Dean plated himself some of the homemade food before Y/N gestured at the spot in front of herself and Sam along with the parmesan on the table. Dean took a seat not wanting to be impolite more so than he'd already been.

"Anyway, I'm trying to convince Sam to let me trim his hair."

"You're not touching my hair with a ten-foot pole."

"Oh, come on Sam it grows back. You'll see, it'll look really good and you won't even want to grow it back. Won't be in your eyes anymore, won't distract you during hunts, monsters won't be able to grab at it. You know I make a good case."

"Sure. But you're still not cutting my hair." Meanwhile, Dean was silently moaning at the flavours on his plate. Y/N watched as the eldest closed his eyes savouring the taste, before he spoke, displaying his voice to them for the first time since the early morning.

"This is kind of amazing. I don't think I've ever had spaghetti this amazing. What jar did you guys use?" Referring to the sauce that had his taste buds dancing on his tongue.

"Actually, Y/N made the sauce."

"My mum used to make these gigantic pots of spaghetti sauce and freeze it so we could have it whenever we want. I was missing it, so I made some from memory. It's not hers but I think it turned out alright. I know I missed something, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was." Dean looked up, his mouth full, to the women speaking, no longer focusing on him rather in her head desperately searching for the missing ingredient, as he swallowed.

"You made the sauce? From scratch?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah, I mean it's not really that hard just time consuming, you have to let it simmer for a little bit, but I think it's worth it. Once in a while at least."

"You mind if I have more?"

"Go right ahead. Sam and I both already had seconds." Dean finished what was left and helped himself to more before moving back to his spot at the table.

"Sam promised to make me the 'Winchester Surprise' one day? Said you used to make it for him." Sam looked to his brother who reminisced, thinking back to the worst meals he had prepared for his baby brother.

"It was terrible. Sam that's — to repay her for this. Seriously Y/N you won't want to eat anything we make for the rest of your life. It was god awful."

"As much as I believe you because I do, by the description, Sam gave me, oh boy, I'll still be the judge of that." Dean chuckled at her retort missing her effortless comebacks and modesty when it came to the things she was good at, though he found it frustrating when she didn't accept the compliment he'd give her. He wanted her to brag about how many Djinns she could kill in a week, or in this case how good the sauce was instead of saying it wasn't perfect, so he'd done it for her, telling his brother when she would do something 'awesome', as he'd put it, that made him feel proud to call himself her friend. The guilt he felt was sudden and overwhelming. Even after he'd gone days without speaking to her, after pushing her away so abruptly, she was still offering him dinner, the conversation, the casual smile, the eye contact. How he longed for her eye contact. She had always been able to communicate with him with her eyes. He craved her gaze, how her orbs would sparkle when she was happy or grow dark when hooded with anger. But the thing he loved the most about her eyes was the fact that when they looked into his, it was like nothing else mattered. He could see he had her attention, and he wouldn't want to look away.

"I'm—ehem— I'm heading to bed, didn't sleep well last night, gonna try to rest up before our hunt tomorrow." Dean looked to Y/N who had a saddened look on her face, clearly angry and confused as to why Dean wouldn't let her help him. When he noticed the look on her face, he realized his words and quickly made up an excuse for why he couldn't sleep hoping to ease Y/Ns mind indirectly.

"Maybe it was a full moon, could never sleep well during a full moon."

"Full moon was last week Dean." Y/N answered him with an unreadable expression along with it. He didn't respond in an effort to save what dignity he had left. He forced a smile in Y/Ns direction as he passed by, once he'd finished cleaning his dishes.

"You mind telling me what's going on between the two of you Y/N?"

"Honestly Sam I haven't got the slightest."

"I know you two were sharing a bed... was that like—"

"If you're suggesting that we were a thing then no. He slept better when there was someone in the room with him, so I was that someone. Then out of the blue, he got distant and said he didn't need me anymore so." She shrugged not sure how to further explain their recent exchanges. "I know he's not through with the nightmares though because I heard his screams last night. I didn't check on him 'cause I was angry at him saying they were done, and he didn't need me anymore, but it was petty. I wanted him to stew in his nightmare, remember how bad they were before I told him I'd stay. I just don't understand him, I didn't do anything to warrant his actions. I haven't bothered asking why he's mad at me and even if I did, he'd just ignore me some more so what's the point. He's being a child. He's acting like I killed his brother when really all I'm trying to do is cut his hair." Her joke succeeded in lightening the mood as Sam chuckled moving to the sink to clean off his plate.

"You're a good influence on him, you know?"

"Why's that."

"Well for starters, he washed his plate."

"Oh yeah, I yelled at him this one time for leaving a mess, which I'm pretty sure was actually mine from the night before, but he hasn't left dirty dishes since so I guess it all worked out." Sam outright laughed at that before excusing himself to prepare for bedtime.

By the time 8 o'clock rolled around the bunker was silent, everyone in their respective bedrooms reading or watching a little telly before getting some rest. Due to the lack of sleep the nights prior and the upcoming hunt, Dean closed his eyes tight willing the nightmares away as he gripped his sheets. It didn't take him long to doze off though and it didn't last long before he was startled awake by Y/Ns voice. "Dean! Wake up!" She looked terrified, holding Dean down by his shoulders. "You idiot. Get up."

"Y/N? Why? What's—" She dragged him out of bed to the bathroom.

"Look at your hand Dean." She could hear the anger in her voice frustrated with him for refusing her help. The help they both knew would work. Dean looked down at the palm she hadn't grasped as she marched him down the hall like a child in trouble. It was bleeding, trailing down his fingers, shards of dark glass still imbedded in the tender skin of his palm.

"How did—" It came out as a whisper, laced with sleep as he did his best to orientate himself. Y/N turned on the light in the bathroom before forcibly sitting him on the lid of the toilet.

"You must have grabbed the beer bottle on your nightstand in your sleep." Y/N had pulled out the first aid kit they had stored under the sink along with a pair of tweezers, kneeling in front of the older Winchester.

"Y/N you don't have to—"

"I swear Dean if you tell me you don't need my help one more time I swear," she looked up from his palm to glare at him, "I’m going to tie you down until you get past... what ever this is." She didn't break eye contact with him until he nodded, shamefully looking down at the injury he only now started to feel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5 ~~ Out now!

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[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 4, part 2

We found the guy staggering down the creek. We heard him before we saw him—he was wading through knee-deep water, half hunched over and groaning in pain. As he got closer, I was able to make out that he wasn’t human but crocodilian, and dressed for fishing. His pants had torn away below the knees, and I could make out bright green vines with vermillion buds snaking up his legs. He was bleeding where they burrowed into his hide. He looked up at us with glassy eyes and weakly called for help, reaching out with both hands. 

Automatically I moved to support him but Calder held me back. He told me he recognized the vines as marshbloom, a particularly nasty plant native to Blastfire Bog. An opportunistic parasite, it latched onto any skin that came into contact with it and fed on its host, growing until they were entirely overtaken and drained of their minerals. Once the marshbloom had fed all it could, the buds would open and spread their spores to find new hosts. 

This guy already looked to have been wandering for a couple of days; we didn’t have much time—probably only about another 24 hours. I told Calder to watch after him and make sure he didn’t wander off. Since Calder didn’t technically have skin, we agreed he might be able to physically restrain the afflicted man as a last resort. Meanwhile, I raced back to the cottage to scour my predecessor’s notes.

I found that her overall knowledge of the bog and its flora were spotty at best, but she did have an entry on the marshbloom. Her notes said that it should be treated like any other virulent parasite, but with extra focus on healing the skin. With the entry wounds closed, she noted, the portions of the plant inside the host’s body would be unable to photosynthesize and would simply die, and the portions outside would lose the necessary minerals and fall away.

With a little more research, I knew what I had to get. I dumped out the remaining breadcrumbs from my pack, had Ailean hop up on my shoulder, and set out for Hero’s Hollow.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I told the guards at the entrance that I was foraging and expected to be inside for less than an hour. Then I headed in, map in hand, to find some liquid fire.

It’s not quite lava, this substance (lava is molten rock and this is more akin to superheated magic), but it is quite hot. You need special gloves to handle it. It won’t burn you, but it will certainly feel as if it had. It’s great for clearing parasites if you can get it down—like a flash fire fever. I found it fairly easily, flowing right out of the wall (turns out Hero’s Hollow has a lot of natural deposits), and collected it with little issue. It was as I was headed back out, however, that I heard heavy, clanking footsteps sprinting towards me accompanied by a “what ho!”

I turned and looked to find a suit of armor approaching me fast. The visor was flipped up, showing that the helmet was clearly empty. “I, the Baron, challenge you to a duel, brigand!” The voice sounded more like a jester’s than a knight’s—or a baron’s, for that matter. I backed away and tried to tell this Baron that I really didn’t have the time (or the equipment or the skill) for a fight, but as I said so my back bumped up against the wall. The suit of armor ignored what I’d said, unsheathed its sword (the thin kind with a point, rather than the kind with two sharp sides), took on a cartoonish stance, and cried “en garde!”

I stayed very still for a good long while, and so did the armor. Every few seconds it shouted something like “you shan’t best me, scoundrel!” or “your scourge ends here!” Its accent was all rolled ‘r’s and rapidly fluctuating pitch. After about three minutes of this I finally went to try and just walk away, and the suit of armor immediately lunged forward and skewered my thigh.

I cried out, more out of shock than anything. It was a relatively shallow wound (I wrote “skewered” but it was more like “scraped”), but the sudden movement and prick of pain surprised me. The Baron, for its part, seemed delighted. It immediately turned and began to skip away, occasionally clicking its heels in the air and crying “tee-ha! Tee-hee! I, the Baron, have bested thee!” It disappeared around a bend in the corridor, but I could still hear it for a long while after as I bandaged my wound.

What a blighting nuisance. I supposed though, as I limped out of the dungeon, that it could easily have been a lot worse.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I headed back to Glimmerwood Grove next, to look for wild roses. The hip seeds promote skin health, and I thought they theoretically should be fairly abundant. But, as is my luck, they proved to be frustratingly elusive. I was already pretty annoyed when I ran into Kendre.

Kendre was a satyr, and (as they volunteered immediately upon seeing me) a druid who lived in the forest. Their arms were wiry, the rest of their human torso obscured by what appeared to be a grass-stained burlap sack with arm and neck holes cut out. The fur on their goat legs matched their russet hair. They wore complex jewelry, with earrings and necklaces and adornments to their curled horns all connected by small chains to form one large piece.

I asked how long they’d been living in Glimmerwood and they said just about their entire adult life. They mentioned a shack deep in the heart of the grove where they lived and gardened and kept to themselves. They said they didn’t normally forage this close to town but they were looking for something elusive.

I asked them if they had seen wild roses around and they thought for a moment before saying that roses had been an unusually rare sight this year. They apologized, and offered instead the location of a different plant: the coffee cap. Though unrelated to the bean (it’s actually a mushroom), it does contain about the same amount of caffeine and releases it into the body quicker when consumed. When added to a potion, its only real effect is to sharpen the patient’s senses—not useful for the task at hand. Still, I thanked them and followed their directions to find some—it’s always better to have more and more varied reagents on hand, just in case.

Kendre was the second denizen of Glimmerwood Grove I’d met who seemed to have no connection to the human society in Greenmoor or High Rannoc at large. As I plucked a mushroom and put it in my bag, I wondered if there were any more.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

I didn’t have to wonder for long. After retrieving the coffee cap I headed back towards the path. I took a right that should have led me straight back onto it, but instead I found myself in a beautiful (if dilapidated) courtyard. I must have been caught in some kind of dimensional fold, as I surely would have noticed the high, ornate walls that now surrounded me had they been present before.

The walls themselves were ornate but clearly weathered, dotted with tall thin windows and covered with hanging moss and climbing vines. The floor was made of smooth bricks that must have once been an intense shade of lapis or ultramarine, but that had faded to a (still gorgeous) azure. They were cut and laid in a pattern that was symmetrical but irregular. It took a good bit of staring for me to realize it depicted the phases of the moon, running from right to left across the space’s center. At the corners of the courtyard were raised plant beds that may have once been carefully maintained, but now grew wild. Each had a great tree at the center. Three of them had a least one side that had cracked or buckled, allowing dirt to spill out and their tree’s great roots to spread less impeded. The fourth one, the one in the far left corner, held a smaller tree, mostly obscured by—to my surprise and delight—wild rose bushes!

I began to hurry towards them before the sound of a clearing throat stopped me. I had completely overlooked what was clearly meant to be the courtyard’s central feature: along the far wall was a great, ornate throne. It gleamed golden in the light, its high back intricately molded with dozens of humanoid figures in myriad combinations and contexts—probably recounting the plot of some long-forgotten myth. Seated on the throne, still regal and imposing despite being dwarfed by it, was a man. As I approached him I realized he was much taller than me, or for that matter any human. His skin was extremely pale, his form rake thin, his hair a nearly-white blond. He was dressed in a garb unfamiliar to me, though the dense ornamental fur of his cloak and the rich purple of his tunic and pants communicated his status anyway. He regarded me cooly with orange eyes as I took in the sight. Finally, I noticed his long, pointed ears and it clicked: this prince was an elf.

Belatedly I dropped to one knee and bowed my head. I hoped that was the correct gesture of respect for elven royalty; it had been many years since I took politesse classes in primary school, and I’d never had much use for what I learned from them before.

He chuckled and told me to rise. His voice, though a fairly high tenor, had a commanding sense of depth. He told me it had been far too long since he’d had a visitor, and I should feel welcome to stay as long as I like. I asked for his name, and he raised an eyebrow before telling me I could not have it, but that I could refer to him as His Majesty, the Crown Prince of Sovereign Go’ed-Wigg. I quickly apologized for my careless wording, and told him he could call me ‘F.’ Given the Crown Prince’s care with his own name I figured care of my own was in order. I decided to let it be ambiguous whether this was an initial, a random pseudonymous letter, or if I had chosen “Eff” as a name.

I asked the Crown Prince (as I decided to think of him because that full title was simply too much) if I might have one of his roses, so that I could heal a patient. He thought for a moment then said I could on two conditions: I had to give him a gift in return, and I had to listen to a story. I told him that my patient’s time was limited, but that so long as the story was of a reasonable length (I believe I specified no more than fifteen minutes), and so long as I myself got to choose my gift to him I would be happy to agree to those terms. His expression was unreadable enough that I couldn’t determine whether I’d wiggled my way out of some trick or not, but he conceded my conditions.

As the gift, I gave him the coffee cap I’d just obtained, and explained its uses. He told me he had heard of coffee caps before, but seemed satisfied with the gift anyway. He said with my limitation we wouldn’t have time for the full story, but he’d tell me the first part anyway. I can’t recount the Crown Prince’s exact wording—he spoke for a long time—but I’ll summarize as best I can.

Once (he told me), there were three queens. A queen of spades, who ruled over those things on the earth, a queen of diamonds, who ruled over those things below it, and a queen of clubs, who ruled over those things above. The queen of spades and diamonds neither one had a king, but each had one knight. The queen of clubs had no knight, though she did have a king—but he was perpetually absent.

The realm of the queen of spades was verdant and teeming with life, both plant and animal. The queen of clubs’ domain was bright and open and free, always fresh and always changing. The queen of diamonds, on the other hand, ruled a territory rich with minerals, precious metals, and gems, which all things that lived would eventually join as they decomposed and returned to their base materials.

The queen of diamonds, though, was uncaring of these gifts. She surveyed her realm and saw rot, slimy worms and scuttling insects, and tons and tons of dirt piled so much upon itself that there was barely room for plants or animals at all. She looked over the queendom of spades and the queendom of clubs, and all the light and life and variety and air they had, and she grew jealous. She resolved to take the other queens’ territories for herself.

The queen of diamonds knew that going to war immediately would be foolish. Her two rivals (the queen of spades especially) had dozens of subjects in fighting shape, and she had next to none. So, she worked on expanding her population. She promoted immigration, emphasizing the riches to be found in her domain. With her (previously unmentioned) magical powers, she engineered those denizens she already had over the course of generations into stronger, smarter, better fighters. She was raising an army.

What the queen of diamonds didn’t know was that her knight and the knight of spades were in love. They kept their affair hidden from their respective queens for obvious reasons, but met in secret regularly. Wishing to limit the chance that they might have to meet in battle personally, the knight of diamonds told the knight of spades what the queen was doing.

The knight of spades took this information to his own queen, who thankfully didn’t probe too deeply into how he’d learned it. Instead, she immediately set about raising an army of her own, and passed the information on to the queen of clubs personally.

The queen of clubs, then, faced a rather pressing issue: like the queen of diamonds, she did not have enough subjects in fighting shape to raise an army. Unlike her counterpart, however, she did not have several generations’ notice with which to rectify that weakness—nor did she even have a knight of her own.

So, after obtaining permission from her new ally, she searched far and wide in the domain of the queen of spades to find a champion, one who could inspire their peers to fight their hardest, with the knowledge to select the generals and lieutenants and foot soldiers who would be able to defend her queendom.

And find one she did. The champion was such an effective leader, so adept at rallying people to follow her with true deep-seated conviction for the cause, that she would come to be known as the queen of hearts.

It was at this point that the Crown Prince stopped and gestured to the rose bush. I realized that I’d become so thoroughly engrossed in his story that I’d lost track of time, and I was thankful I’d thought to set a time limit. He sensed this too, and as I went to pluck a rose hip he asked if I was enjoying the story. I asked him in turn where he’d learned it. He said that he was the only one in the world who knew it. I asked if he meant he’d made it up, and he didn’t respond.

Instead, he said I’d have to come back later to hear more of it. I told him I didn’t even know how I’d gotten here in the first place, much less how I’d return, but he insisted that I’d find my way. As I left the courtyard, he turned his attention back to the mushroom I’d given him, turning it over and over in his hands.

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I was just about set to head back to Calder’s stream when I realized something all of a sudden: I couldn’t touch my patient, which meant I wouldn’t be able to force him to swallow the potion—he’d have to do it voluntarily, without spitting it out or spilling any. Liquid fire, one of my major ingredients, was notoriously both very hot and very spicy, making it difficult to stomach. I would need something to cover the taste. I remembered that I had the candy rock back at the cottage, but I was honestly closer to Moonbreaker Mountain. So, I decided to just run over and find some on my own.

I took a path I hadn’t been on before. About halfway up the mountain, I came across Mòrag McKinney, knelt at a shrine. It took her a long time to notice me, but when she did she smiled and bade me sit down next to her. She told me this was a shrine to Cernunnos, the antlered god of nature, hunters, druidry, fertility, and warriors. She said those going on journeys often placed offerings at it hoping for his favor. I asked if she was going on a journey and she said no, she’d just started coming here recently. Something about it called her.

She traced little circles in the dirt with her finger as she told me about Cernunnos, his ability to call animals to him, how wild-growing plants were considered his bounty. I had heard of Cernunnos before, even if I hadn’t studied him closely, but I let her speak. When she was finished, I apologized and told her I was on a deadline. I asked her where I might find the candy rocks. She seemed disappointed to see me go, but directed me a little ways up the path. I hurried off and found a large cluster easily. The rocks (crystals, really) were extremely brittle—I could break off a good-sized chunk with my hand. Once I’d done so, I hurried back to Calder’s river.

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Here is how I made the potion:

First, I crushed the rose hip seeds with my travel mortar and pestle.

Then, I collected some water (Calder was kind enough to let me borrow a bit of his)

Then, I combined it with the seed powder, liquid fire, and candy rock.

Finally, I shook it until it was all combined.

I decided to call the potion Bog’s Bane—a fitting enough name, as it ended up looking like orange mud. My crocodilian patient was staring vaguely off into the distance, so I gave the potion to Calder so he could help get it down. Once he’d finished it, the patient gasped and his eyes unclouded. Already the visible vines crawling up his legs were withering, their yellow buds falling off. I told him he ought to go see Dr. Ardor-Knox in town, and to tell them that he was seriously drained of vitamins and likely anemic. I didn’t know if the doctor had the requisite knowledge of crocodilian physiology to treat him, but I figured sending patients their way might help smooth things over with them. The crocodilian was still a bit out of it but seemed to understand well enough. He paid me for the potion and stumbled off in the direction of Greenmoor.

When he was gone, I turned to Calder to apologize that my work had cut our picnic short. He said to think nothing of it—the man would have stumbled into his creek anyway, so it was good that someone who knew how to treat him was present when he did. Nevertheless, I asked if we could have a do-over soon, and he said he’d like that.

It was far too late by that point for anything further to happen (though if it’s not wishful thinking there was certainly some tension), so I resigned myself to trudging back home. Now that I’ve recounted the day's events, I’m going straight to bed. Here’s hoping that tomorrow isn’t quite so hectic.

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